


Take the Chance, Make the Choice(Being Rewritten)

by Iship_lover



Category: Batman (Comics), Batman - All Media Types
Genre: After the second chapter, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Time Travel, Anal Sex, Angst and Fluff and Smut, Batjokes, Control Issues, Dom/sub Undertones, Established Relationship, Fix-It, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Morally Grey Bruce Wayne, Non-Chronological, Porn With Plot, Smut, Some chapters won't be in chronological order, Time Skips, Time Travel, Time Travel Fix-It, Time Travelling Bruce Wayne, Vigilante Joker (DCU), time jumps
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-22
Updated: 2021-01-02
Packaged: 2021-03-06 17:13:25
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 18
Words: 25,261
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26042485
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Iship_lover/pseuds/Iship_lover
Summary: When given the chance to do so, Bruce chose to return to his past, to a time before the decades long tangle between himself and the Joker had torn Gotham to pieces. Bruce had a chance to steer his former enemy to a different path. Would he be able to let go of the memories of another life? Or would it drag them both down to ruins once more?06/02/2021Update:This fic is not abandoned, but it is in the process of being rewritten as I am unsatisfied with the way the direction of the fic is leading. The rewritten fic will be uploaded as a separate fic once it is completed. Thank you so much to the readers who have read, gave kudos, bookmarked and commented on this fic.
Relationships: Joker (DCU) & Bruce Wayne, Joker (DCU)/Bruce Wayne
Comments: 75
Kudos: 193





	1. Prologue

_Three years ago._

Bruce stared at the prone form of the man laid on the medical bed in the batcave. The face of his enemy- his _nemesis_. The man that he had brought back so _recklessly_ to his haven was still the Joker, though he would not have called himself that, at least not yet. He was much younger than the man Bruce had remembered, face not yet marred by the scars of his twisted mind, nor by Batman’s fists. 

He reached up to remove his cowl, before he could talk himself out of it. For the plan he devised to work, he would need the Joker- no, this man who was _not yet_ the Joker(and if he could help it, never will be), to trust him. As he set the cowl down to the small plastic table next to the bed, he saw the man shift in discomfort, dark green strands of hair clinging to his forehead, dampened by sweat. 

Bruce had managed to fish him out of the toxic sludge that flowed out into the waters behind ACE Chemicals, but the damage has already been done. The black suit Joker wore before falling into the barrels of chemicals was sticky and had almost burned through Bruce’s glove. Another thing about returning to his past- the bat-suit was far less maneuverable and much weaker in terms of protection than the one he remembered. It was not as if Bruce thought to _stop him from falling entirely_ \- but from what he had known, it was an _inevitable_ event- _like with his_ \- he shook those thoughts out of his head.

Green eyes looked up into his own, disoriented. The smaller man attempted to prop himself up on his elbows, only to fall back down once more, in visible pain. It is obvious now, without the flamboyant purple suit, or the loud personality and cruel laughter, how emaciated the Joker was, even as he clashed with Batman time and time again. 

“Y- you are-” He seemed to be confused. Bruce did not know how the chemicals had affected the Joker, and how he had dealt with it the first time around.

“Batman.” He said, simply, and waited for the words to sink in. 

Looking into the Joker’s eyes(he cannot think of this man as any other name), it seemed to have been an eternity before the other man gave him a response, as he realized who was before him.

“ _Bruce Wayne_?” Eyes wide, the Joker shifted against the heavy sheets covering him, scanning Bruce’s face, the bat symbol that blazed across his chest, the dark cape that contrasted starkly against the bright white walls of the medical suite, and once again to the face that every Gothamite knew from television or newspapers and magazines. And once again, to the dark cape and cowl that made the shadow that loomed over him before he plunged into the depth of the toxic wastes of ACE Chemicals.

“You fell.” Bruce spoke slowly, and deliberately, carefully steeling himself so that his voice would not betray any emotion that bubbled up inside his chest- the burning hatred, complicated sympathy, a tangled thread that could _almost_ be described as some sort of strange _affection, smothered_ by a healthy dose of Bruce’s own self-hatred every time that came up. 

“I...fell..” His voice, disoriented, was so soft that Bruce could barely hear him. Nothing like the man who would destroy Gotham - _destroy him_ \- eviscerate the city, and laughed as it burned. 

“You should sleep.” Bruce kept his voice calm, hoping that it did not betray any of the swirling, heavy feeling inside his chest. Even now, he could see that there was a _difference_ between the Joker that he _knew_ , the man that he fought against until they both collapsed with the city burning around them, and this man before him- so thin that the white sheets seemed to swallow him whole, almost a stranger without that manic fire that sustained him as he fought the Bat from street to street. The Joker- no other name seemed to fit him, so Bruce continued thinking of him as the Joker, nodded and closed his eyes. 

_Maybe this time he could make a difference_ , Bruce thought. Maybe he did make the right choice to return to before the times when he had been Batman for so long he forgot how to be Bruce Wayne. To before his entire life became consumed by his rivalry with the Joker- this time, that rivalry doesn’t even need to exist, if Bruce made all the right choices. _What were the right choices?_

Bruce stepped out of the medical bay, and into the main chamber of the cave. A wave of nostalgia hit him as he took in the dark walls, the sounds of chittering and flapping wings, the glow of the computer screens, cutting edge for this time but almost primitive compared to what he was used to. 

In the glowing reflection of the screen, he saw himself. A much younger version of himself. Dark hair without the white that had crept up his temples. Clean shaven, and none of the lines that etched a permanent frown onto his face. Only his eyes truly reflected his age, and all the decades of experiences that came with it. Bruce adjusted the bat-suit- it was clunky, and uncomfortable- he really should stop complaining about his old suit, it was nothing that he couldn’t handle, though so much of it could be streamlined. He looked back to the closed and locked door- triple locked, newly installed door of the med-bay installed in the cave since he started using it as his base of operations.

Alfred waited for him at the base of the elevator. 

“It is done then?” He asked. Bruce nodded. He had his conversation with Alfred- one with much of the details left out, but what he did tell him was all true. He knew Bruce was from the future, that inside his body was an older soul, that he came back because he had regrets that he did not want to make peace with, and that one of those regrets was sleeping in the med-bay below the manor. “You’ve found who you were looking for, then.”

“I did.” Bruce replied as they left his father’s reading room. He had spent his time since he returned some weeks ago getting reacquainted with the Manor and the bat-cave. Still, every step he took through the grand halls felt like he was chasing ghosts. “Is there anything else you’d like to ask me?” It’s been so long since he last talked with Alfred, there was this strange formality, an unfamiliarity that he hoped would be broken through time. Still, he knew that Alfred missed the young man- the Bruce Wayne without the additional decades that weighed him down- and may have resented Bruce from taking that away from him.

“There are, but I doubt you will answer me, Master Wayne.” Alfred replied, pouring Bruce a cup of coffee and himself a cup of tea. Bruce leaned against the counters. It was difficult to sit in this bat-suit, yet another reminder that he has yet to make more changes. “Particularly about...our _guest_.”

“I can’t tell you the full story, not yet.” Bruce shook his head. “I...I need some more time. With him.” To see if he had made the right choice to take the Joker in, instead of sending him to some doctors- not like the ones in Arkham, doctors who would be qualified to help him- Bruce had even spent an entire week researching doctors that could possibly help- in the end, there was no one else that Bruce trusted to deal with the Joker apart from himself. 

“He is-”

“Someone…” Bruce thought about what he was about to say, the best and most simple way he could put it. “Someone important. Someone I _need_ to _save_ .” He thought of himself, body broken, buried under Gotham, reduced to rubble, the Joker’s own body cold and pressed against him, green eyes blank and glassy, as Bruce breathed his last. “Someone I _have to_ save.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> After pretty much a year since I wrote my last fic, an idea that I could conceivably spin into a full fic finally invaded my brain and took hold.  
> It’s been some time since I last wrote Batjokes- and this prologue has been super fun to write. Both characters will be a bit of an amalgamation of their various comics, movies, games and tv selves. I'm looking forward to writing more of this fic!


	2. Body Electric

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter Warning: Smut, some kinky stuff, et cetera. People get tied up. Talks of control.

_Present._

// _The sky was burning red and orange, lit up by fires and explosions. His suit was tattered, and half his face exposed. Joker did not look surprised, not at all, pale face reflecting the light of the fires, so bright that night seemed almost like day._

_“This is it, huh?” He asked, voice unusually subdued. Bruce grit his teeth. Another explosion rang out from the city beneath them, as the building they stood on shook to its foundations._

Bruce opened his eyes. The red faded, replaced by the smooth white ceiling.//

“ _C’mon_ , Brucie, don’t go so _early_ . You _always_ go so early.” An arm draped across his shoulder. Bruce turned, and pressed a kiss against the other mans’ temple, brushing away the strands of green hair in his way. 

He did all the beating himself down and self agonizing doubt years ago. Bruce thought, as he pressed another kiss to Joker’s cheek. “I don’t _have to_ go, yet,” he whispered, as he rolled over on top of the Joker, hand running up his rumpled shirt, biting lightly on his collarbone.

“I _knew_ you’d stay,” the Joker smirked, a smug grin on his lips. The same smile that haunted him in a past life, without the hint of malice that darkened it. Bruce never forgot that this was still the _Joker_ , only that he had a different experience, a _different_ life, but still the same person- because of _Bruce_ \- and Bruce was okay with that. In some twisted way, it almost _excited_ him, to _have what he couldn’t_ the first time round, to get the _chance_ to mold the Joker, to shape him and change his life until it would fit _seamlessly_ into Bruce’s life. It’s a fucked up, _messy_ way of thinking, Bruce thought. It sent shivers down his spine. 

Bruce lowered his hips, grounding himself against the man beneath him, biting at his neck as Joker’s words trailed off into soft moans. He reached down, slipping a lubed finger across his thigh, listening for the telltale gasp as he prepped the other man, ignoring his own erection. 

“ _Hurry_ ,” Joker pouted, eyes rimmed red with frustration. He kicked Bruce, only pulling the fingers deeper into himself, which made him yelp with surprise. 

Gripping the Joker’s thin hips, Bruce readied himself, pushing into the tight heat, biting his lip as to not release immediately. One hand reached around, stroking the Joker’s hair, brushing green strands of hair away from his eyes. 

“The better not be the hand that was just in me-” he grumbled, shifting his hips as Bruce reached down once more. “Bats, I _told you_ to _hurry_ \- _ah_!” 

Bruce _loved_ this, the pressure slowly building, his cock gripped tight as he set a brutal pace, white legs wrapped around his back as finger shaped bruises formed on the pale skin on Joker’s hips. Nails dug into his back. Something primal in him woke each time he sees the Joker all _marked up_ \- by his cock, or his hands, or his teeth- 

“ _Mine_ -” he thrusted, hips slamming down with a loud slap- “Say that you’re _mine_ -” 

“ _Yours_ \- I- ah, I’m-” Bruce cut off the smaller man’s stammers as he kissed and bit at soft lips, watching them redden as his pace reached a frenzy, until white hot heat took over his mind and Bruce came, biting hard on the Joker’s neck, leaving yet another red mark as he came- _marking him_ from the inside-

His entire body felt as if it had been soaked in warm water for hours, as the pleasure of the afterglow settled against his bones. Bruce closed his eyes, pressing their bodies closer as the first rays of the sun peeked through the closed curtains. 

“You’re mine.” He whispered, as he held the Joker against him, fighting the image of himself trapped under the rubble, holding the Joker- _just like this_ \- but instead of him being warm and alive and teasing and biting he was _cold_ , and limp, and would fall to the ground if not for Bruce clutching him-

“Bruce- Bats!” A hand tapped against his cheek. Green eyes filled with concern looked into his own. “You okay?” 

“I’m fine.” Bruce nodded, pressing a hand against Joker’s chest, feeling his heartbeat. “It’s okay- everything is- yeah.”

The image faded. Bruce held on until the piercing light of the morning could no longer be hidden. Joker had fallen asleep once more, head resting upon Bruce’s shoulder, legs tangled up in the sheets. It took him three years of longing, of heartache and doubts and sleepless nights to get to this point, and that was _after_ Bruce had returned from a future that still haunted him.

He built something for himself here, Bruce thought. He built a life for himself here, one that would _not_ end in flames- that was his _promise_ , to himself, to the man he held on to, to Gotham. He has something _good_ here. He _deserved_ this. 

* * *

They never seem to be able to do this slow, Bruce thought. Each time they started off _making love_ , they inevitably ended up _fucking_. Each sound made by Gotham’s traffic or the footsteps of passers-by seemed to set the Joker off, make his body shudder slightly as he shifted, trying to keep his slacks from slipping further down his knees. 

There’s something about seeing the Joker so _disheveled_ , Bruce’s tie tied around his eyes, his own tie around his mouth, arms tied around his back with a belt, gloved fingers struggling to keep a hold on something as he pressed his face against the bricks- yeah, _like that_ , that made Bruce’s cock strained against his own pants, so _hard_ that it was almost painful, made Bruce’s mind stretch thin just to contain his own arousal. 

He peered around the wall- they were hidden enough, there was always plenty of alleyways in Gotham, and it’s not like these brick walls haven’t seen action like this before- 

So here they are, all out in the public, at the strange time between dusk and night when the night-life of Gotham was just picking up it’s pace, and Bruce was palming himself, eyes fixed on the wet, shining base of the toy quivering with each shifting movement. He couldn’t wait much longer.

“Mmf-” Joker arched his back as Bruce slid the silicone toy from his body. Bruce bit down hard on his lip, the pain distracting him from coming in his pants from the sight of Joker, tied, exposed and bent over- Bruce can do _whatever he wanted_ to him-

So he does, pushing his cock in one stride, aware of the sounds of flesh slapping against flesh, of the soft whimpers and muffled moans, aware of the Joker’s tied arms, aware- that they could be _caught_ any second-

Bruce leaned down, reaching a hand down, running his thumb across the tip of Joker’s cock, eliciting another desperate groan as the other man shifted, backing against Bruce until their bodies pressed flush against one another, until Bruce grunted and came, holding the Joker tightly against his own body. 

If Bruce could capture this moment, and just- _stay_ in it, then it would be worth both his lives. Having who he wanted and longed for right where Bruce wanted him- but he couldn’t, so he got them both dressed and cleaned to the best of his ability.

The _satisfaction_ of watching Joker blow him a kiss and limp away, though- he could savor that. For as long as he wanted to.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A bit of a time skip from the first chapter here, mostly for smut writing purposes. It’s been a while since I last wrote any smut, so I may need a little more time reacquainting myself with the whole process ;)


	3. Lost in Thought

_Three years ago._

He was still sleeping. Eyes shut tight, brows furrowed, green hair fanned across the white pillows. So Bruce watched. It’s been one week since he brought the Joker back from ACE Chemicals, and the times he had been awake could be counted on one hand. An IV drip stretched from his hand to the stand beside the bed. It was through the years of tumbling with and fighting with the Joker that Bruce polished his skills in medical care, and now he’s using that on the man himself. 

Of course, the Joker wouldn’t know- he was unconscious, and, as far as Bruce was aware, unreactive to what’s around him. Bruce fixed his eyes on the rising and falling of his chest. Had he made the _right_ choice? Too late now to think about that, what was done was done. Bruce would have to live with it.

He reached out, fingertips brushing against the Joker’s hand. It was cold. Carefully, Bruce placed the other man’s hand into his own. Bruce did a lot of thinking as he was dying. As life slipped from his grasp. He thought about the burning feeling that rose in his chest each time he fought the Joker, heard his laugh, each time he subdued him and -and the times when they stood, quietly, as dawn broke through the night of Gotham. When there was something almost like _peace_ between them. He felt that burning the most, then.

Bruce lied to himself then. He told himself that that burning feeling was hatred, against the Joker for his wanton destruction, and against himself, for not being able to stop him. It was a lie. He admitted that, to himself, and to the Joker- at that point, Bruce was unsure if the other man heard him. 

“I lied…” he turned his head, ignoring the sharp pain in his shoulder. “I did hate you, but what I _felt_ \- it wasn’t- it wasn’t just _hate_ .” It was _longing_ . Even as he admitted it to himself, Bruce felt a weight lifted from his chest- ignoring the weight of the collapsed building on them both. A deep, _burning_ longing to reach out, across the impossible divide that separated them, and just- _hold on_. Just hold on. 

“ _I love you_ .” Bruce whispered. “I wish things turned out _differently_ . It didn’t _have to_ be like this.” The words weighed heavy when spoken out loud. The Joker’s hand remained cold in his own. He squeezed slightly, and closed his eyes. He said what he wished he had said. Bruce made peace with what he felt. It doesn’t mean that he did not still have complicated feelings about this. It was always going to be complicated. But he made his peace. And it felt good. It’s contradictory. Bruce was a walking contradiction, so it made sense to him.

What he had here was a blank slate, Bruce thought, later that day when he returned to the med-bay. Joker was half-awake, eyes glazed and unfocused, but still following Bruce’s movement around the room. 

“How are you feeling?” Bruce asked, voice low. He kept the burning in his chest down- _not the time_. 

“...I, uh,” he blinked. “...Feels like..” he shook his head. “Don’t know how to describe it.” 

“You should get some more rest.” Bruce told him. “I’ll take care of everything.” He said. _I’ll take care of you_ , he thought. He didn’t say it. Joker nodded slightly, eyes more focused now, fixed on Bruce. Bruce tried to look as reassuring as he could. He could tell that the fall and the acid at ACE’s hurt him. How could it not have hurt him? 

Like he thought, blank slate. Joker was...quietly pliant. A part of that would be due to the drugs that Bruce had pumping through his veins. It dulled the pain that he was in, the burning acid that ate away at him. But he was willing to listen, too. Even if he had never met Bruce before, he knew that he was reliant on Bruce, and was rescued by him, so he listened. 

“I can _change_ you.” Bruce said. “I _will_ .” Joker was sleeping, so he did not hear. The years of animosity, the years of Joker ruining the lives of the people of Gotham, which Bruce cared about immensely, and the lives of those Bruce cared for, which hurt even more- they did not _exist_ . And they _never_ will. 

Of course Bruce would try to stop the Joker from ever going down the path that he went down. He did not know what happened to him after that fateful day, only that he re-emerged almost a year later, with bombs and guns and a sharp blade and a sharper smile, and cut into Bruce’s life and his heart for the years thereafter. 

There was another question then- 

Bruce would need to hide what he felt for the other man. It was still too new, felt too raw- he needed more time for himself- more time to get used to being honest with himself. More time to think, and dwell, and think some more. Besides, he didn’t even know if Joker would feel the same way this time around. After all, they didn’t have that _history_ anymore- don’t get him wrong- he was _extremely_ grateful for that-

But he just- he didn’t know. So Bruce sat, and watched, and took care of Joker whenever he woke, and held him as he shook in pain as the drugs wore off, and Bruce couldn’t risk giving him a higher dose. He liked the feeling of the other man in his arms. It felt good. He ignored the ache in his chest that this may be all he ever got. 

It was _enough_. It was. 

* * *

At night, Gotham changes. From a bustling metropolis, to a dark city. Gothic reliefs and statues adorned to walls of tall buildings, gargoyles prowling over the city’s skyline. Gotham at night was a different beast, and Batman was in his element. 

Batman soared above the city, and saw everything below. The good, and the bad. He lived and breathed Gotham. He picked a good time to return- early in his career, before all of his more colorful rogues appeared. If he was lucky, he could stop a few more of them- after all, with the Joker with him, it was unlikely he would cross paths with Dr Quinzel. He tried not to think of her- now that he realized just exactly _why_ he disliked seeing the former psychiatrist with the Joker. 

Batman had a lot of time to think. There was enough muggings and gang activity on a regular Gotham night for the Bat to keep his hands busy, but without the colorful entourage of the Rogues, this Gotham was far quieter than the Gotham he was used to. 

Later that night- early morning of the next day, Bruce returned to the rooftop of Wayne Enterprises. Being one of the tallest buildings, it offered him a bird’s eye view of the entire city, as the horizon lightened, and golden light spilled from the edges of the sky. 

He remembered being on top of this very building, as the Joker collapsed the building beneath them. He must have known- he always knew, and probably thought that it was ironic to bury them beneath the ruins of Wayne Enterprises. 

Batman left, returning to the cave before his presence was noticed as the city woke. When he returned to the med-bay, Joker was still asleep. He changed out the IV for a new one, and woke him for another dose. 

“What’s it like?” Joker asked, as Bruce took off the cowl. “Being Batman?” 

“It’s…” Bruce found it hard to describe. “I don’t know.” Joker nodded. “How are you feeling?”

“Fine. I guess.” He gestured to the scratches on the armor. “You okay?” Bruce smiled at that. 

“Yes. I’m...fine. Used to this.” Joker looked like he wanted to ask more questions. He also looked like he was about to drop. Bruce took the glass from his hand. Gloved hands brushed against pale skin. Bruce didn’t reach out for his hand. He wanted to, but he did not.

They sat together, quietly, until the effects of the drugs took over and Joker slipped into another deep sleep. Bruce reached out then, and stroked his hair. His face. His hands. It felt good. It was enough. It has to be enough. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bruce thinks about stuff


	4. Panopticon

_Three years ago._

He watched him. Why _wouldn’t_ he watch him? His injuries were still raw, hidden and unseen, but Bruce could tell what someone looked and acted like when they were hurt. Bruce was keeping an eye on Joker. That was all he meant to do. It was a relief when he was able to leave the bed, and walk a few steps around the med-bay. The flooring was heated, with water-pumps below the white tiles. Bruce made sure that there were no sharp edges in this room. Made sure that it was safe. 

“I hate being like this.” He told Bruce, quietly, after Bruce went down to the med-bay in the morning. He went every morning since he brought Joker back. In the beginning, the other man remained unconscious, so Bruce watched him. Made sure that _he_ was safe. Now, almost every time he went, Joker was awake, and waiting for him. “I’m..” He gestured to himself, and wobbled on his feet. Bruce grabbed him by the arm. They were so close that Bruce could feel the heat from the other man’s body, feel soft green hair brushing against his shoulder, and it made something in his chest feel like it was about to burst open. “I can’t even get up and walk around without your help.”

“It’s okay- I want to help.” Bruce replied. He could feel Joker’s sharp shoulders against his arm. He was still far too thin- he had always been lanky, but never like this. How did he even _survive_ the fall? Bruce wasn’t there, and thought he was dead, and he didn’t save him the first time around. And the Joker disappeared for months after the fall into the chemicals. Were the damages done to him worse then? How had it affected him? There were too many questions, and no answers. 

He carried him to the medical bed, set it up so Joker could sit upright. It was so easy to carry him around. Bruce had only ever done it a few times, and never when the Joker was awake. Each memory of those occasions were seared into his mind, and now, Bruce knew _why_ \- _and it only took him several decades and dying once_ \- he thought.

“Why?” The other man asked, and Bruce jumped out of his thoughts. It’s far too easy to get lost in thought- he should stop that- this is a new chance, he shouldn’t dwell too much on the past. “I don’t get it, I don’t _understand_ . Why are you so- so _good_ to me?”

“I-” Bruce stopped to think. He did not know how to answer that- he did know- but not how to answer that question in a way that Joker would _accept_ . _I care about you?_ But why would Bruce care? To Joker, he was just a stranger. _I love you?_ Even worse. No way he would be able to explain _that_. “I hurt you.” He said, slowly and deliberately. “I was there- and you fell. I can’t let that go.”

“ _Feels like the bones are trying to crawl outta my skin_ -” Joker clenched his fists- then relaxed. His body seemed to be almost _vibrating_ with energy, energy that had nowhere to go, which frustrated him even more. He took a deep breath, and replied. “I still- I don’t remember much.” He looked up at Bruce. “I don’t remember you ever pushing me, though. Feels like you’ve got _other reasons_ for keeping me around than just feeling guilty about-” he gestured to himself- “ _all this_.” 

“I was there. You were...surprised. I didn’t catch you.” Bruce knew Joker was always observant. Even in this state, he could tell that Bruce was hiding _something_. It was no surprise when Bruce realized that he must have known he was Bruce Wayne for all those years, yet he never said anything. Now, though, it was Bruce that revealed his identity to him. He hopes that that would change something between them, for good. Joker seemed to accept his answer, albeit reluctantly. 

“You should be able to walk around a bit more soon.” Bruce said. “I’ll show you around. The cave. The manor.” He paused. He didn’t want to let him go too far beyond the manor. Not yet. This was still too new. Bruce needed to be sure. 

“Thanks, Bruce.” Joker smiled slightly. It made something warm bloom in Bruce’s chest. It wasn’t as sharp as the smirks or grins the Joker had always directed at him as Batman chased after him. He would like to see that smile again.

When he couldn’t be physically present with Joker, Bruce watched him. As much as he could, in the time he had outside of the nightly patrols. There were extensive camera systems in the med-bay, even before Joker became it’s long term resident. And there was enough surveillance in the cave and the manor to cover almost every corner and crevice of the building. Wayne manor, old and glorious as it was, gave in to the tides of technology, and transformed under Bruce’s direction into a panopticon of sorts, with hidden eyes watching its inhabitants every move. And that was before Bruce returned. Ever since then, he had spent time not only upgrading his ‘Bat-equipment,’ but also the security systems in and around the manor and even the surrounding fields. 

“Isn’t this a little... _overkill_ , master Bruce?” Alfred had remarked mildly. The butler had accepted him, eventually, and Bruce was relieved- it felt good to have another chance at seeing and spending time with people he lost along the way. 

“I know what happens in the future. Trust me, it’s _not_ overkill.” Bruce answered. 

“Touché.” Alfred raised an eyebrow. 

Bruce kept an eye out on the Joker- so he would not hurt himself, he thought, and hooked his personal monitor in Wayne Enterprises to the manor’s systems, and watched him from there. Bruce had long stopped giving notice to any issues of privacy that arose- it would be hypocritical, given that at one time, he had surveillance on pretty much the entire planet, and various off-planet locations as well. 

He also had to admit to himself that he liked to _watch_ the other man, just to make sure that he was still present. That it wasn’t a dream. That one day Bruce would wake, and there would be no Joker in the med-bay, and that a year later, he would be met with the Joker he was more _familiar_ with, a cruel glint in his eyes and a sharp tongue, a knife in his palm. Cold steel piercing flesh. 

It was why at times when Bruce would wake in the early hours of the morning in a cold sweat, still feeling the heavy rubble on his chest, and stumble down to the cave. Only when he did see Joker _there_ , did that feeling of panic -that he never returned, and the thought that it was the fever dreams of a dying man- fade, and Bruce could breathe properly again. And why he liked to touch him- help him walk around- the physical contact made it more real to Bruce, made it seem less likely that it was just a fantasy.

He traced the pale figure on the screen, the shock of green hair standing out against the white walls and floors of the med-bay. He didn’t seem to notice that Bruce was watching him. Bruce watched Joker as he moved closer to the door of the med-bay, and his chest tightened. Even now, Bruce still kept the door locked- he would only let him roam if Bruce was also present, and watching. He hoped that Joker would not find out. 

He did not- the figure stumbled, and paused before sighing. Bruce watched as he returned to the bed, and pulled the blankets around himself. He let out a breath he did not realize he was holding. And kept watch.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another chapter! Comments are super appreciated!


	5. Incognito Mode

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: unrealistic smut, control issues/unequal power dynamics

_ Present. _

There was something thrilling about scaling the tall, gothic structures of Gotham, gazing downwards from dizzying heights. It never got old. Evidently, Joker thought that as well, as he landed lightly beside him on the rooftop. He was always light on his feet, and, now that he was an ally, Batman _ really _ appreciated that ability- it was helpful when they needed to give chase. 

“Joker. What’s the update?” He asked. 

“Hey there, Bats,” he swayed a little with excitement. “Some good news here-” he tapped at the tracker pad’s screen. The soft blue glow lit up against the side of his face. 

“Watch the light,” Bruce reminded him. Joker has been out with him on patrols for less than a year- there were still things for him to learn. He was a fast learner. Bruce turned to give him cover. “Turn it down- make sure to cover it. You don’t want to be seen.” 

“Got it, Bats-” he waved a gloved hand, and pointed towards the screen. “I got a hit- there’s a shipment going to the docks. I planted a bug on one of the guys-”

“You  _ what _ -” he  _ told _ him to  _ never _ act alone- before he could speak again, Joker cut him off. 

“Don’t worry about it,  _ darling _ \- I  _ know _ what I’m doing.” He reached into one of the pockets on his coat, and picked up a small transmitter. A tinny voice emitted from the device. Bruce gritted his teeth, and switched his focus back to the mission.

“- _ Ready for Monday night, boss _ -” the voice rasped, the sound of waves crashing almost covering his voice- they were down at the docks.

“- _ Don’t mess up _ ,” another voice, “ _ The Bat and that Clown will be on our tails- we need to get this done. ASAP. _ ”

“ _What about the GCPD?_ ” The first voice asked. A snort could be heard.

“ _ They’re useless. Don’t worry about them _ .  _ Just make sure that you’re there at Ten. _ ”

“ _ Got it, boss. Will you be there? _ ” 

“ _ Of course. _ ” A pause. “ _ The Russians have been...very good customers so far. It’ll be rude if I don’t meet with them _ .”

“See, Bats?” Joker raised an eyebrow. “Told you I’d get the information. The drugs are shipping Monday night- that’s _ tomorrow _ .”

“We’ll need to act quickly.” Batman replied. “Gordon should be waiting for us at the GCPD headquarters. We should go meet with him.” 

The Bat-signal lit up against the clouds. Most nights in Gotham are moonless lights, making the signal all the more obvious. Striking fear into the hearts of men. They made way towards the headquarters of the GCPD, near the centre of the city. The looming gothic structure sat on the street, old stone juxtaposed against the neon lights of the surrounding area. 

The everpresent fog has obstructed their view somewhat as they made their way up to the roof of the GCPD. Gordon was waiting with his back turned. He was a familiar figure, more so to Batman than to Joker- he had been cautious to introduce them to each other-  _ bad memories of the past comes to mind _ \- but-

“Hey, Commish! Your moustache hasn't gotten any bigger now, eh?” Joker laughed. “Looks like it’s gonna take over your face!” 

“Be quiet, Joker.” Batman walked quickly between the two. Gordon’s eye- and moustache- twitched as he turned towards them. “Ignore him.” Batman told him. “Ready your men. The shipment goes out Monday night at Ten.”

“At the docks?” Gordon asked. Batman nodded. 

“Dress your guys up as dock workers- have ‘em there nice and early,” Joker stepped in. He always moved his hands around, shaking and almost vibrating when he explained his plans, green eyes glinting with excitement. 

“How many?” The Commissioner lit up a cigarette. 

“How many dock workers usually work at a port?” He swayed again, leaning back and forward on his heels. “We’ll be there later- go after the goons, there’ll be plenty of them- Bats and I?  _ We _ -” he paused, pointing to himself, and then to Batman- “will go after the  _ main guys _ \- the buyers and sellers.” 

It was already early in the morning when they got to the GCPD headquarters. By the time the remainder of the plan- the details, the timing and positions were all sorted out, daylight was starting to creep in. This mission was important, and Batman wanted to make sure he had his hands on what the mobsters had- stopping the drug handoff may be important, but it was not  _ his _ priority. There was something else he was after- something that he would need to make use off  _ very soon _ . But that will have to wait. He had something else that he needed to deal with. 

On the ride back, Joker had leaned back against his chair, whistling some show tune to himself. He seemed very pleased with himself, which Bruce understood. The sense of pride and excitement in planning a mission, and the anticipation of carrying it out had mostly faded for him. For someone relatively new to this line of work, it was expected. For Batman, it was time he used to think. 

“Why’re you so quiet tonight?” Joker asked, turning to Batman. He did not reply. 

The Batmobile peeled into the cave, coming to an abrupt stop. As soon as they both left the car, Batman grabbed the Joker by his lapels and shoved him up against the hood. 

“ _ You put yourself at risk tonight _ .” He growled. Batman had enough time to _ stew  _ about this when they were planning, and on the way back. He held his tongue, not wanting to show his more... _ lacking _ qualities in front of another. It’s been three years, and Joker was still... _ challenging _ him. Pushing his buttons. Looking for ways to _ break  _ the boundaries that Bruce had set. 

“ _ So what _ if I did.” Joker’s smile turned sour. “What  _ are _ you going to do about it?” 

_ What can he do about it? _ Batman thought. There were just some things he  _ cannot let go _ \- not with the Joker. He doesn’t want him to stay too far away from him. Doesn’t want him to put himself in danger. Always wanted to have a  _ leash _ on what he can and can’t do. In the past life he had  _ no control _ with regards to the Joker, and what he did. Now that he had gotten a taste of  _ that _ , he could not _ let it go _ .Where would he  _ be _ now, if he let  _ him _ go. If Bruce lost control, loosened his grip- then he would lose Joker, and the  _ connection _ that they’ve had. This  _ relationship  _ that  _ he _ built. He couldn’t. He  _ would not _ allow that to happen. 

“Bruce, I love you.” Joker looked back up at him. “I won’t- I’ll be careful, I  _ promise _ .”

Bruce could tell that he chose his words carefully. It was  _ capitulation _ , for Bruce’s benefit. He gives in to him, and they bury the conflict, and wait for its’ inevitable rise once more. He leaned down, and pushed Joker against the hood of the car, pressing his mouth against the other mans’ lips, and searched for an opening.

Joker melted against him, and yielded, letting Bruce rip apart his jacket and shirt, and wrapped his legs against his waist as Bruce unclasped the belt of the armor, and made quick work of Joker’s belt and slacks. He uncapped a small container of lubricant, coated his fingers, and pressed in roughly. 

“-Bruce-” Joker bit his lip, glaring up. “ _Bats_ -” Bruce cut him off with another rough kiss. When Joker was like this- when he relented, and  _ gave in _ \- Bruce gave himself a few rough strokes, and  _ pushed  _ his cock in with a single thrust, muffling Joker’s gasp-

And Bruce had to close his eyes. Reveling in the tightness that enveloped his cock. In the body beneath him that he was almost  _ merging _ with. In the quiet  _ submission _ that was offered to him in that moment. It was not remotely healthy, not at all, but Bruce needed Joker to be  _ his _ \- and Joker _ knew  _ this, had known this for the last three years- and in the end, he always gave up. And gave in.  _ For Bruce _ . 

They were both awash in the moment. Bruce moved slow, pulling out up to the tip of his cock, and  _ slamming  _ back in. Losing himself in the other man’s body, as he watched him- sprawled out on the hood of Bruce’s car, red marks on pale skin, eyes wide and glazed over with pleasure as Bruce  _ fucked _ him- 

His legs squeezed behind Bruce’s back as he wrapped his arms around his shoulders. “Bats-  _ please _ -” 

They came together. Bruce closed his eyes, squeezing them shut as the white hot blaze of pleasure took over his entire being. Joker rested his head against Bruce’s chest and panted softly. Bruce wrapped his cape around them both. 

“Joker, I-” He tried to say something. What could he say? There’s nothing he could say. “I love you.” He tells Joker, instead. The other man nodded, eyes still closed. 

“I love you, Bats.” He whispered against Bruce. “You do know that, yeah?” Bruce stroked his hair. He did not answer. 

* * *

The next night, Batman and Joker sped to the docks, placing the Batmobile in incognito mode before moving towards the main building. The dock workers were all gone- temporarily replaced by members of the GCPD. In the cover of darkness, men and women in hard hats and heavy overalls looked similar enough to disguise them. 

Batman had already recognized some members of the Falcone family. None of the top mobsters were present, though the presence of several middling members of the family indicated that it was important enough to them. Some trucks, transporting the drugs, were parked among the export containers. What he wanted was amongst them.

“You go forward with Gordon’s people.” Bruce told Joker, and placed a hand on his shoulder. “I will meet with you later- there is something I need to take care of.” 

His eyes lit up as he looked back at Batman. “Of course- I-” he was cut off as several yells were heard in the background. They looked at each other, and Batman turned away.

Batman sped into the side of the docks, where the trucks delivering the drugs stood. He scanned them with a sound amplifier, and searched for the telltale  _ ping _ . He closed his eyes, and ignored the sounds of the battle still raging inside the main building of the docks. Joker will be fine- the best of the GCPD, those personally vetted by Gordon, was there. All he needed to take care of was the heads of the snake. The bug he had planted on him relayed the entire ordeal- Batman would be able to reach there if he was needed.

“There you are.” He whispered. The Mother Box sat at the corner of one truck among the bricks of cocaine. Its soft pings signalling its location. 

“I’m surprised that you’ve left him alone.” Alfred’s dry voice sounded through the systems. “What is this thing?”

Batman picked it up. “Something I’ll need. Very soon.” He never knew how it came into the hands of the Falcones, but he would be very glad to remove it from their possession. It pinged quietly. He opened a compartment in his belt, and placed it there.

By the time he rejoined the fray, it was already over. Batman watched as the GCPD handcuffed the mobsters. Both the Falcones and the Russians would have taken a hit. It was a big win for Gordon and the department. 

Joker grinned at him. “You’ve missed the action, Bats. _ Where were you _ ?” Batman took his arm and led them into the shadows. They shouldn’t overshadow the GCPD tonight. They’ve needed a win- he could see that the criticism of being reliant on vigilantes were damaging the GCPD’s reputation. 

“This is a one time thing.” Bruce told him, as he stepped behind him and removed the bug. Joker did not notice. “I needed to retrieve something.”

“Not going to let me work alone next time?” There was a serious note to the playful question. 

“No.” Bruce made it final as he wiped the bug’s drive. “I won’t.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another chapter!   
> Thank you all so much for the hits, kudos and comments! They've been keeping me going and absolutely am fueling my writing! Thank you!  
> As we can see here, even three years after Bruce returns from the past he still has some unresolved control issues. In fact, some of it has gotten worse. ;-) some fun implications here for future chapters.  
> As for the Mother Box, think of it as a powerful alien weapon that allows people to 'jump' from one place to another and manipulate energy. Bruce is from the future, so he knows all sorts of things other characters don't, and that's one of them. More DC lore will be used, but only the fairly 'mainstream' ones, as I haven't really kept up with the comics for a while now.   
> Thank you all for reading!


	6. These Violent Delights

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING: A major showing(even more so) of Bruce's control issues. Some violence in the flashback. Unhealthy relationship dynamics.

_Past._

They were called intrusive thoughts, and Bruce _hated_ them. Hated the way that they slipped into his mind when Bruce was alone. Hated the way that he kept having these thoughts- he could not even _begin_ to name everything that was wrong with them- 

For almost as long as he had been Batman, Bruce had _known_ the Joker. His enemy. His most colorful nemesis. When Joker came out to play, Batman was always on the scene. It had always been this twisted game- the Joker would kill, and destroy, and burn with wild precision, with wild eyes and a laugh that cut like knives. And Batman would stop him. Bring the wild fire under control. Stop the burning. 

When did Bruce start to _notice_ him, _beyond_ the madness and destruction? When he looked into Joker’s eyes, and saw something burning there- _burning for him_ \- and was _pinned_ there, by those eyes, unable to move-

Or was it the time when Joker turned to look at him, with the dawn gleaming behind his back, sunlight obscuring his face, and he- he _smiled_ at Batman. Bruce was sure- a _real_ smile- it turned Bruce’s stomach, made him almost dizzy. When he cuffed the Joker, he did not resist. Even as he sat at the back of the armored car, he still turned to Batman, offering the same _damned_ smile.

Some nights, he would be in between waking and dreaming, and he would hear a soft whisper besides his ear, see those same eyes looking up at him, that same smile directed at him. Almost seeing another body, filling all the empty spaces in the bed, in the room, in _his life_ . And then Bruce would wake, and shove those thoughts down, deep down, _bury them_ in hate and denial, until he had convinced himself that it did not even _happen_ , not at all. 

The time when Batman dragged Joker out of Gotham bay, and held him as he coughed and gazed up to him- the way his water soaked clothes _clung_ to his body- and the way he just- _lets_ Bruce pick him up and-

Bruce must have been losing his mind that day- he had almost _considered_ taking the Joker back with him. There were no one else waiting for him there- an empty shell of a home, surely he could _keep_ him there-

And then what? Bruce asked himself. What did he _want_ to do with the Joker? What would he even do if he took him back? _Why_ did he even think about- 

In the end he took the Joker back to Arkham. He turned and looked back at Batman, face blank and expressionless as the imposing black building of the Asylum swallowed him in shadows. Bruce felt like a _coward_. When he returned home, a strange sense of loss accompanied him. The rooms felt too big. Too empty. He was alone.

These intrusive _almost_ dreams became worse after that, and the more Bruce tried to suppress them, the more they _haunted_ him. He must be _losing his mind_. 

The next time the Joker escaped, he killed twenty. Gassed them until ghastly red smiles cut across their faces streaked with tears. Bruce found him, covered in the blood of his victims. They fought like they always did, ferociously, both men bringing an almost _desperate_ edge to their battle. 

Bruce had the other man pinned down, arms twisted as Batman crushed his forearm with a vice-like grip. The thoughts came once more, always at the _worst_ of times, and Bruce thought of himself, pinning the Joker down, in an entirely _different_ manner- taking what he _wanted_ \- _no_ , _not_ what he wanted- why would he even _think_ like this-

“C’mon, Batty-bat- Bats-” Joker laughed, and sputtered as Batman cuffed him. “I _know_ what you _want_ -” 

“You know _nothing_ about what I want-” Batman growled, as he pulled the Joker’s hair, slamming him face down against the concrete floor. The other man struggled against Batman and the cuffs. There was none of the almost-peace they had between them, like on that morning, or like when Bruce fished him out of Gotham bay. They were back to the old games, the old struggle. Blood and death. Corpses of Gotham’s innocents watched them both. 

Joker laughed again. A sharp sound, echoing off the walls of the warehouse. “I know _exactly_ what you want, _Batman_ .” He spat. “ _All you do is lie to yourself._ ” 

* * *

_Present._

Bruce laid awake, unable to sleep. Watching the rise and fall of Joker’s chest. Losing himself in the memories of his past became rare events the longer he spent in the present. Still, at times, they would rise, and Bruce would sink into them once more. 

Now that Bruce had what he wanted- _who_ he wanted- he did not want this life to slip from his hands. There were so many ways things could still go _wrong_ , and with Joker more and more reluctant to stay within the boundaries of their agreement, Bruce could foresee so many more ways he could lose _him_. 

The closer Bruce held on, the more Joker seemed to want to pull away. From him. And it frustrated them both. It has become a twisted imitation of their old game, only more _intimate_. At least it was not as deadly. 

“I’m sorry.” Bruce whispered. He reached for the device that he slipped into his pillow case early that night. “You didn’t leave me any choice.” It clicked lightly against Joker’s arm, slipping the tracker back into him. He had promised that he would never track him like this again after the last time he took out the tracker. Bruce broke that promise. He _should_ feel guilty about this. When the deed was done, all the guilt that he _did_ feel was accompanied by a keen sense of _relief_. 

He destroyed the device, erasing every trace of its existence. When Bruce returned to bed, Joker was still sleeping. Bruce watched him, reminded of the early days of watching him in the med-bay. 

“You were _right_.” He spoke to the Joker in his memories. “I didn’t know what I wanted. I lied to myself.” He stroked Joker’s arm, and pressed his hand over the spot of the injection. It left no trace. “I’m not lying to myself anymore.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all so much for your kudos, comments and support! 
> 
> So, yeah, Bruce did that. Yikes. And it wasn't even the first time he did the whole tracking thing(We'll be looking at that more closely in the chapters set in the past). His motivations would become clearer as our story goes on, though I hope that I've made them clear so far. Some of them are still secret, though, since even Batman's plans have plans.
> 
> There's definitely going to be more fluff in the future, and more angst and...other stuff ;-)
> 
> Joker's not just going to sit there and take it, though. He is the Joker, after all. We don't know what he's planning or thinking, since we're only following Bruce's pov
> 
> Thank you all so much for reading!


	7. Fanfiction

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In this chapter: Some fluff, we learn a bit more about Bruce's motivations

_ Present. _

“If you had to choose between me or Batman, who would you choose?”

Joker paused, turning to look at him. Bruce could tell by the large mug of coffee in his hands and the dark shadow beneath his eyes that he hadn’t slept well. He blinked slowly at Bruce. “Bats?” He paused, placing a hand on Bruce’s forehead as he set the mug down. “You okay? Di d you get hit in the head last night?” 

“I’m fine.” Bruce grinned. It had been a pretty smooth night last night. Peaceful, which was rare in Gotham, and not raining either- also rare in Gotham. They’ve been going out on patrol together for some time now, and Bruce knew how rare those quiet nights were. “I was just thinking…”

“Yeah? Go on.” Joker looked curious. 

“Remember when you saved me? As Bruce Wayne, I mean.” Bruce asked. 

“Yeah, I remember that. Why’d you bring it up?” Joker tensed. “Are you going to whine about me saving your butt by myself again?”

“-No! Of course not.” Bruce winced. He did not react well. He should have reacted in a better manner. 

“Hmph.” Joker sipped his coffee. “You better not.” 

* * *

_ Two weeks ago. _

Bruce kept track of Joker. Usually, he was in the manor, so Bruce watched him from the same monitor he has in his office in Wayne Enterprises. High above the ground, he had a view of the entirety of Gotham. 

Sometimes, Joker was not in the manor. Bruce knew this-  _ and he wanted to confront him _ \- but he did not- if he did, Joker would ask  _ how _ he knew- and  _ that _ \- Bruce knew there would be consequences for putting that tracker back in. He elected to not think of those consequences.

Bruce had always known that Joker would leave. Not for long, and only when Bruce was at his ‘day job.’ At least now he could keep track of  _ where _ he went. Joker could’ve asked Bruce to take him  _ anywhere _ he wanted to go, and Bruce would go with him. He chose instead to wander alone into the streets of Gotham.  _ Without _ him. 

And Bruce knew  _ Gotham _ . Bruce had known Gotham, its streets and what lies underneath, all its dirt and grime and crime filled insides. Below the fog that wrapped around the skyscrapers, the city was an entirely different beast. It hurts, and twists- and most of all- Gotham  _ corrupts _ . He loves his city, Bruce thinks. He  _ hates _ what it does to people. Hated what it did to Joker.  _ Feared _ what it may yet do to him. Feared that it would take him away from Bruce. 

His eyes followed the tracker on the screen. Joker was close, less than a block away from Wayne Enterprises. Impulsively, Bruce almost stood, grabbed his coat, was going to storm off and- he stepped back, and took a deep breath.  _ Don't go too far _ , he reminded himself.  _ If he found out, he would _ \- Bruce refused to keep going down that line of thought. 

Just as Bruce sat back down, an explosion  _ blasted _ through the building. He caught himself against his desk, when another explosion, a dull roar, shuddered through. Bruce could hear distant screams, see a billow of smoke rising- his heart stuttered- it was too much like that day when he- more screams- and sirens- the whirring blades of a helicopter-

Bruce’s head  _ ached _ \- did he hit himself against the desk? He stood, and ran through the smoke, covering his face with a hand as he ran down the steps- 

People were crowding, screaming along the corridors- Bruce corralled as many as he could, and- 

“This way!” Bruce froze, as a familiar figure cut through the haze of the smoke. He watched as Joker pointed and told something to the first responders who were on the scene. He walked towards him, and wrapped his arms around Bruce’s shoulders, leading him down the hall. 

“Bruce! You’re hurt!” He squeezed his shoulder. “Are you-”

“You came.” Bruce said. “You shouldn’t have. You’re not supposed to-”

Joker’s face fell at that. “You can’t tell me what I can or can’t do, Bruce.” He muttered darkly. “I saw the smoke. I came to help  _ you _ .” 

They were standing closely now. Bruce could notice that others were glancing at them, even through the commotion. 

“I- you’re right.” He said quickly. “I’m sorry.” 

“You  _ better _ be.” Joker huffed. “You’re  _ lucky _ I put up with your paranoid controlling  _ bullshit _ .” 

_ I know _ . Bruce thought.  _ I really am _ . "C'mon, Bruce." He softened his voice. "We should go see if anyone needs any help."

* * *

It was luck, too, that no one was seriously hurt at Wayne Enterprises that day, despite the strength of the explosions. Both Batman and the police had investigated repeatedly and thoroughly, and found no signs of foul play. Only that a chemical accident had occurred in the labs in the mid-levels of the building. It was a relief that the labs were empty that day, and that Lucius and his team were in one of the other WE buildings in Gotham.

Aside from the damages to the building, and some unfortunate injuries from the shockwave, his employees had escaped relatively unscathed. Still, Bruce kept an eye out. He would need to be entirely sure, before he could rest on this issue.

“...and? What does that have to do with your question- a super dumb question, by the way. You sure you don’t still have a concussion?” Joker poked his chest, 

Bruce shook his head. “I was just thinking,” he paused, “that I really am lucky you put up with my-” he pointed to himself, “paranoid, controlling bullshit.” 

Joker rolled his eyes, and drained his cup. He walked up to Bruce and stood on his toes, pressing a kiss on his cheek. “It’s ‘cause I love you.  _ A lot _ . So don’t push it.” Bruce wrapped his arms around the other man, relishing in the close proximity of his body. “You know, one of these days, I won’t  _ give in _ anymore.” Joker whispered against his ear. “Even if I do love you.” Bruce nodded, feeling slightly nauseous. 

“-You know about the stuff people write about us? Batman and Joker.” He changed the subject quickly. 

“‘Course I know.” Joker let go of him. Bruce could see that his face was a little red. “It’s…some of the  _ stuff  _ they have us do in them...”

“People.” Bruce said. “Have.. _.active imaginations _ .” 

“...get to the point.” 

“Someone took a picture of us at Wayne Enterprises.”

“...And..?” A realization dawned upon him. Joker’s eyes widened. “Wait-  _ no way _ .”

“According to them, you-” he takes Joker’s hand, pressing a kiss against his palm. “Are having some trouble choosing between sweet,  _ charming _ Bruce Wayne, and-” he places an arm around Joker’s waist, pulling him close once more, “ _ me _ .” He lowered his voice, nipping at Joker's earlobe. He felt him shiver slightly against his chest.

“Why can’t I just have ‘em both?” Joker hit back. “I’d like to do that.” 

“Really?” 

He laughed. “I love you. All of you.”

“Even the paranoid, controlling parts?” Bruce asked, half-jokingly. 

“...Don’t push it, Bats.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all so much for your comments, kudos and support! They are all cherished and appreciated!
> 
> In the upcoming chapters: We finally get to see Joker's pov, and also take a look back into the past and how they got here


	8. The Laws of Attraction

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter notes and WARNINGS: Joker's POV, slight alcohol use, light smut

_Present._

When had he first found himself drawn to Bruce? His very first memory of him was of himself, standing at the edge of a precipice, barely clinging to the guard rails. A large, _looming_ shadow- a bat- a _monster_ \- and then he _fell_ . The _pain_ of the fall was so overwhelming and memorable that at times, he could _still_ feel its shadows brushing over him. One hell of a first meeting. Even _that time_ \- he traced a scar on his palm, another on his wrist- could not have compared to the green acid that drowned him, _burned_ him, changed his body and mind so fundamentally that who he was _before_ had no connection with who he became _after_ it.

And then...the Bat took off his mask, and became a man. Every time he woke up in the days after the fall, Bruce was there, and it made the pain and the delirium _better_. Easier to deal with. What would have happened if he was not found? Joker was sure that he would have died there. It was hard not to hold on to the only light he had. Hard not to fall for the person that took care of him, day in and day out, without a single complaint. 

Who took care of him, after... _after_ what happened to him. Who was always by his side when he needed him. Even if Joker _hated_ the restrictions, he could _understand_ them. Doesn’t mean that he wasn’t frustrated about them. Or that he doesn’t _resent_ them. It was like living in a room with no exits. He loved Bruce. Even the paranoid, controlling parts of him. Even love couldn’t keep him from wanting to crawl up the walls of that room. 

“It seems like one of those nights when sleep escapes us.” A mug of coffee, hot, and topped off with cream and sugar, placed delicately before him. “Would you like to add something extra?” Joker nodded, and a healthy pour of whiskey splashed into the mug.

“Couldn't sleep either?” He asked Alfred. The butler raised a steel-grey eyebrow, and smiled slightly, before sitting on the opposite end of the table. Joker liked the smaller, informal dining room. The dining hall had always seemed so... _empty_. 

“It is...quite unusual, isn’t it? We haven’t had much of a chance to talk, lately.” Alfred replied. When he first met the man, Joker had to admit that he was impressed, and slightly intimidated by him. They had warmed up to each other since then. “It appears that he’s not taking you out on patrol anymore. Did something happen?” 

Joker felt his mood sour a little at that question. “If it did, he didn’t tell me.” He paused. 

“I see.” They sat in silence. It was always difficult to talk about this with Alfred. “And _you_ are...fine with that?”

Joker shrugged. He really didn’t want to be having this conversation now. “I’m fine.”

“I do hope-” the old man seemed to understand “-that you really are.” 

He nodded. “Thanks, Alfred.” 

After Alfred had cleared out the table, he was the only one left, awake and alone. He passes by the immaculate reading room, past the grandfather clock, and down into the Bat-cave. He could see that burlap sack in one of the display cases. A whip, in another. And a green bowler hat. Gotham had certainly produced some real _characters_. Including Bruce and himself. 

He headed towards the med-bay, his stomach burning slightly. Alfred has been...more than generous, and one thing Joker could not handle well was alcohol. It was...comforting, sometimes, to shut himself in the room- rebuilt since he first woke in it to be larger and accommodate more medical equipment, but it had still retained the same white walls and floors and ceiling that greeted him each time he woke then. He took off his boots and coat, and laid on the bed. 

He thought of himself, lying here, the acid eating away at every part of him. And of being pumped full of all kinds of drugs and medication, so much so that he would spend entire days dazed and drifting. And of the... _other time_ he had to spend here. It wasn’t that long ago- long enough for the wounds to heal into pale white scars. Not long enough that it does not still hurt to think about. He drifted into a strange, restless sleep, and dreamed of nothing in particular.

When he woke, Bruce was sitting at the bedside, staring at him with an unrecognizable look in his eyes. Joker blinked. His head hurt slightly, and he had left the lights on in the med-bay. It shone into his eyes. 

“I couldn’t find you.” Bruce said, hoarsely, and Joker tensed. He looked into blue eyes, and saw that Bruce was tense as well. 

“I...didn’t mean to fall asleep here.” He softened his voice and demeanor. Reaching out, he placed a hand on Bruce’s shoulder. This place has...heavy memories for them both, more bad than good. 

Bruce surged forward, and held on to him. He wrapped his arms tightly across his back. Joker closed his eyes. Bruce had always been so _afraid_ of him being gone. He has his reasons for doing so. 

“Please, Bruce, I need some room to _breathe_ .” He whispered against the other man’s chest. He loves him, he _really_ does. Bruce tightened his hold. No matter if he yelled, or cried or _begged_ \- and he had done all of that- Bruce would always accommodate his _moods_ . And widened the perimeter of the cage. Doesn’t change the fact that he was in a cage. He knew that if he stays in this cage- this room without an exit- for long enough, _he_ would disappear. 

Bruce cupped his cheek, pressing a kiss against his lips. Joker felt his body heat up a little. He was still dizzy, and his stomach still burned. Why not give in to Bruce, if only for a moment. Drown himself in his love. Forget that it was the same love that made him a prisoner. 

Joker turned, placing his arms against the walls. He closed his eyes. It’s better to just _feel_. Feel Bruce’s teeth sink into his neck. Feel his breath against his ear. He shuddered slightly. His body felt as if he was burning up. Bruce removed every item of his clothing until he was utterly bare, cool air against skin. Felt his hands as they explored his body. Bruce was taking his sweet time. Joker wanted something less gentle. 

Bruce picked up on that. Slicked fingers pressed up against his perineum. He shivered, and bit his bottom lip, as they pierced him, a precursor of what is to come. Bruce towered over him then. Joker arched his back. 

The fingers were quickly replaced by something larger. He was stretched, split open to his very core. Strong hands gripped his hips as Bruce drove into him, the sound of flesh against flesh, of bodies colliding, filled the empty spaces around him. 

Bruce pulled him against his chest as he pushed in once more, and Joker came, pinned against the other man, _caught_ on his cock, the white hot pleasure washing over his entire body and mind, so much so that he barely noticed that Bruce had released himself in him. 

He panted slightly, catching his breath, letting his mind clear up as Bruce held on to him. If Bruce’s _need_ to _have_ him ended here- well, there was no use to think of the impossible. 

“Say that you’re mine.” Bruce whispered against his neck. 

Joker closed his eyes once more. “I’m _yours_.” He replied.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And here it is, another chapter!  
> Joker's voice is hard to write, especially considering that he would be different from the regular Joker because of the different experiences and stuff. 
> 
> Hope you all enjoy this update! ;) I have finally reached 10k words! Yes!


	9. Recovery

_ Three years ago. _

Joker began to recover. It took a lot of care, and medication, for him to get to this point. Nearly two months after Bruce brought him back from ACE, from the night of his fall. Bruce will bring him, after all this time, into his  _ home _ . The home that he grew up in. The home that he had shared with Alfred, and then Dick, and Jason, and Tim- and then with nothing but the bats and the ghosts of past memories. Bruce was relieved that he was recovering. But there was another part of him that...wanted some more time to be close to him, to take care, without needing to make any excuses. Wanted more time just to watch him, just to...remind himself that this was not a dream.

“I don’t have anything else that’ll fit you,” Bruce told him, pushing his thoughts aside. 

Seeing him in Bruce’s clothes helps, a little. Joker had been so totally  _ reliant _ on him in the past few months that Bruce couldn’t help but think of him as... _ his _ . Bruce’s shirt was ill fitting and baggy on his thin frame, and the black just highlighted his pallor. 

“I thought that you’re a billionaire,” he said mildly, raising an eyebrow at Bruce. “Can’t you just buy something my size?” He waved his hands around, and the shirt fell off one shoulder. Joker pulled it up. It slid off the other shoulder. He huffed, crossing his arms over his chest. 

“...I’ll do that soon.” Bruce gave him one of his jackets. 

“Wow, this place is...huge. How many bats  _ are there _ ?” Joker asked. His eyes widened as he glanced around the Bat-cave.

“You’ll need some shots.” The bats squawked, flapping their wings. 

“For what?”

“Rabies.” Bruce replied. “I’ll get you some.”

“Uh-huh.” Joker answered, glancing over at the large open cavern. He stepped aside, angling himself slightly away from the bats.

At the blue glow of the monitors, the empty spaces that once held a sizable display of all the memorabilia that Bruce had collected and maintained. The centerpiece of the display had always been his collection of all things related to the Joker, Bruce thought. The playing cards, the flamboyant purple suits, the custom cuff links and even that smiling fish. Even when he denied his feelings, his... _ obsessions _ , they found their way into his mind and his life. 

He led him up the elevator, and into the somber reading room. Like the day the bat crashed into his life and gave Bruce his name, the afternoon sun shone brilliantly from the large glass windows. Joker held up an arm, and shielded his face from the light. 

“Wow,” Joker blinked as he adjusted to the light. He whistled. “You really  _ are  _ rich.” Bruce looked out as well, to the wide green hills and the remnants of forests that spotted them. To the city, glittering from a distance, none of the smog and corruption showing from this distance. 

“Come, I’ll show you your room.” He led Joker away from the reading room. Their steps echoed against the polished wood floors. The manor was large, with many suites and rooms not filled since the days of its construction. The room he had set aside for Joker was close to his own suite- but not  _ too _ close, as to not arouse any suspicion. 

“A room just for me, you say?” There is a lilt to his voice, a playfulness without an edge. 

Bruce had set it up to be as unoffensive as he could. Pale cream wallpaper, light carpets and a medium sized bed. It had no personality. It had occurred to Bruce to create a set-up similar to Joker’s old hideouts, the way he  _ had _ liked it- bright, garish colors clashing with one another like a circus nightmare. He ended up choosing not to. He needed to separate the past and the present. Here, he had two blank slates.

Joker flopped onto the bed, lying on his stomach. “You-” he gazed up at Bruce, “why are you so _nice_ to me?"

His shirt rolled up slightly, exposing a pale stripe of skin, and Bruce felt his mouth go dry. He swallowed. “I already told you.” It was harder now to push down his desires. Now that the Joker was no longer a silent, sleeping figure, but awake, and moving, and  _ vibrant _ , drawing Bruce’s gaze every moment they spent together. 

“Nuh-uh,” Joker shook his head. His hair, already longer and messier than it had ever been in the past life, spilled across the white pillows. Bruce thought of what it would feel like to touch, and stroke the green strands- if only he could reach out and- “I don’t believe you.”

“That’s the truth.” Bruce kept his voice clean, precise and void of any hint of his true feelings. He couldn’t stop looking at him. Joker blinked, and Bruce could tell he was unconvinced.  _ God _ , Bruce thought.  _ He is so close _ . Bruce could just- reach out and bridge the gap between them. This is a new life, isn’t it? Bruce deserved to have something  _ good _ in this life, after all the work he had done.  _ Coward _ . A voice that sounded like the Joker of the past mocked him from within. He ignored it. Bruce kept his hands still by his side. 

“I’ll take it.” Joker sat back up, batting his hair away from his eyes. Bruce doesn’t know how much longer he could hide this.  _ Why even hide? _ The voice in his mind said. No- he will not be brash. Bruce was  _ Batman _ . His  _ plans _ had plans. He will make Joker a part of _ his _ plan. Bruce was no coward. 

* * *

Joker seemed slightly awkward, and almost shy. He does not sit still, and twists and turns his hands. His clothes, borrowed from Bruce, hung awkwardly from his frame. 

“This is Alfred.” Bruce interjected, after a long moment of silence. Alfred nodded in greeting. 

“I’m…” Joker paused, and frowned. He turned and looked back at Bruce. “What’s my name?”

“What.” Bruce replied.

“You never told me...my name? Do you know what my name is?” Now they both looked expectantly towards Bruce. It seemed that Bruce had...assumed that Joker was  _ always _ ‘the Joker,’ never anyone else, even now. He hadn’t thought that- how could  _ this _ have slipped his mind-

“I-” 

“It’s fine.” Alfred glanced at Bruce. The butler set a cup down in front of Joker. “Would you like some tea? I do quite prefer a good cup of tea. It settles the nerves.”

“Uh, yes.” Joker took the cup. “Thanks...Mr..?”

“Pennyworth.” Alfred replied. “Please, call me Alfred.” Joker nodded. 

* * *

“Joker.”

“What.”

“Your name.” Bruce looked Joker in the eyes. “That’s your name.” 

Joker paused. “Weird name. You sure you didn’t just make it up?” 

“It’s your name.” Bruce said. There was no other way to think about the other man. No matter what, he would always be the Joker. 

“I like it.” He said, suddenly. “I'll take it. Even if you just made it up.” 

“I didn’t-” Bruce cut himself off. He doesn’t need any more revelations about where he came from. Joker was already suspicious about  _ why _ Bruce would reveal his identity to him and keep him in his home for all these months. 

Later that night, Bruce stood by the bed, and watched him sleep. It was something that Bruce had gotten used to doing when he was injured. There was something different about this time. The moon hung low in the sky, its light filtering through the large windows. His pale skin seemed to glow softly. Joker breathed steadily. Bruce reached out and stroked his cheek. His skin was cool and smooth to the touch. A slight jolt of electricity seemed to travel up from Bruce’s finger tips. Joker’s mouth twitched slightly at the touch, and Bruce stepped back.  _ Slowly _ , he reminded himself.

Bruce had waited  _ decades _ for this moment. For this realization. He could do with waiting a bit longer. 

“...Master Bruce.” Bruce had noticed Alfred in the doorway even as his hand lingered. 

“Alfred.” Bruce replied. He knew that Alfred would want to talk. Bruce shut the door as they walked towards the reading room. They remained silent for the entire distance. 

“I wish-” Alfred emphasized, “that you would tell me more about what you are thinking.  _ Planning _ . You used to- I apologize.” He cut himself off. They sat across from each other. 

“Alfred. I-” Bruce stopped himself. He breathed in. This was the first time he would admit what he felt to someone other than himself. Alfred had raised him, and he had seen Bruce through all the hurt the Joker had caused to him and to Gotham. Through the blood and the suffering Alfred was a steadfast companion. “I love him.” 

The butler did not seem surprised. Bruce knew the old man was observant, and he had not been hiding it from him. “For how long?” Alfred asked. 

“Years. Decades. I’ve known him for a long time. I...I hadn’t realized that I did, not until just before I died.” 

“Why not?” Bruce couldn’t fault Alfred for wanting to know. He had appeared so suddenly in his life, still Bruce Wayne, but not the Bruce Wayne Alfred had known just moments ago. Yet, he held on to his questions until Bruce seemed ready to answer them. He deserved some answers- Bruce would not give away everything- but what he told would be nothing but the truth. 

“We were...antagonistic.” Bruce got an eyebrow raise and a side eye for that.

“You did always have difficulty with...feelings.” Bruce smiled. It felt good to be able to trade friendly barbs with the butler once more. 

“Joker was hurt. Badly, by the fall into the chemicals. In his last life, he...didn’t have me. I failed to save him.”

“And?”

“I don’t know what happened to him, but-” Bruce shook his head. He could tell from the look in his eyes that Alfred knew this line of conversation would not go anywhere. “I love him. And I can’t tell him. Not- not yet.” 

“May I ask why not?” 

“...He doesn’t remember anything about the past. About  _ our  _ past. It’s good that he doesn’t, but-” Bruce couldn’t seem to find the words.

“You don’t know how  _ he _ feels, now that you’ve changed things so drastically.” Even after all this time, Alfred still had the uncanny ability to know what Bruce was thinking, and say what he couldn’t seem to say. 

Bruce nodded in reply. The two men sat in silence, with only the sound of the grandfather clock in the background. It was not an uncomfortable silence. The clock struck at the eleventh hour. Bruce stood, and revealed the entrance to the cave. No matter when he was from, Batman had a duty to Gotham. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another chapter! It's been an awesome journey so far and I can't wait to write more!  
> Thank you all so much for the kudos and comments! They are all so lovely and they mean a lot to me. More feedback and comments would be highly appreciated and cherished!


	10. Fight or Flight

_Three years ago._

Joker looked back at him, eyes wild and unfocused. He was shaking. 

“Joker! Come back!” Bruce shouted, not caring if he would be heard or found. “ _Please._ ” He added. Joker shook his head, and stepped backwards. He turned suddenly, and ran. 

Bruce gave chase, but Gotham’s many twists, turns and alleyways had proved a good place for those who wanted to run, and a difficult place to search for anyone. At last, Bruce stopped, staring at the brick wall of a dead end. Joker was _gone_.

The city trembled as a thunderstorm rolled across its skies. 

* * *

Yesterday. 

Long, pale legs swung against the wall. Joker was leaning against the windows of his room. It was one way, and reinforced- like all the other windows in Wayne Manor, so Bruce did not have to worry about him falling through the window, or being seen through the other side. He was wearing shorts. In _November_.

“Aren’t you cold? Bruce asked, and stared at his legs, and tried to look like he wasn’t staring. Being in his twenties again, near the person that he has obsessed over for _years_ , and keeping away from him was doing a number on Bruce. He should know better. Have more constraint. How much constraint can a man impose on himself?

Joker shrugged. “I can’t really feel it. The cold.” He rubbed his bare arms. “Brr. Don’t feel anything.” 

This was one of those moments where Bruce saw just how _fundamental_ the changes caused by the toxic chemical cocktail was. Even the natural reactions humans would have in response to something like cold was dulled, muted, changed in some way or the other. He thought of Joker’s response when Batman beat him. 

Bruce grabbed one of the coats strewn across the bed and handed it to Joker. “Just because you don’t feel the cold doesn’t mean your body won’t respond to it. Put it on.”

“Ooh, _bossy_.” He shrugged on the coat. Bruce had debated whether or not to get him the purple coat. He walked past it twice before taking it off the shelf with the other coats. Joker had always known how to dress himself in a way that drew all the attention to him. Always the center of the room. Bruce, who watched and lurked in the shadows, had been drawn too. 

“What do I do?” Joker asked, suddenly, and snapped Bruce out of his thoughts.

“What?”

He waved his hands. “You always go off to work. Or to-” Joker made a flapping motion “-you know. I’m _bored_.” He stared at Bruce, green eyes glittering like they had right before he would do something dangerous and reckless. For a moment, Bruce felt his breath hitch. It was like looking through the veil of the present and back into the past. Bruce was out of excuses to keep Joker here with him.

“I’ll think of something.” Bruce swallowed, throat parched and dry. 

“Why shouldn’t I just go?” Joker held his gaze. 

“You don’t remember _anything_ about yourself.” Bruce stressed. “Where would you go in Gotham? There’s nowhere else for you to go but here.” Joker did not seem to like that very much. But he did soften his stance. And looked away. Getting him to give in to Bruce was much easier in this life. What does it say about him if Bruce _liked_ that? 

“Is there anywhere _you_ want to go?” He asked. As long as he could keep an eye out on him, Bruce could take him around. The penthouse would be good. He could show him the city- but only from above. From above, with all the details faded and blurred, Gotham was truly beautiful.

"I don't know." Joker shrugged. "Like _you_ said, I have nowhere to go."

When Bruce returned from Wayne Enterprise later that day, he did not expect to be greeted by Joker, who flung himself into his arms. Bruce definitely noticed the scent of liquor. 

“Heyyyy- Bruce, Brucie!” Joker slurred, and wrapped his arms around Bruce’s waist. Instinctively, Bruce reached out and held on to Joker’s waist. His hair was slightly wet, pale cheeks flushed pink, breath hot against Bruce’s chest. His robe was slipping off his shoulders. Bruce closed his eyes, forcing himself to ignore the warm body in his arms, and the heat in his stomach. “I got into your...ha! The good stuff!”

Bruce wanted to lean down and capture those lips. Meet his eyes and tell him the truth. Wanted to peel off the lilac robe, watch it pile around their legs, and carry him off. _Mine_ , he thought. 

“Bats? Bruce! Batsy!” Joker raised a hand, and patted him lightly on his face. He was clearly still intoxicated, leaning his full weight against Bruce. 

“Yes?” Bruce replied. Joker bit his lip, attempting to look serious.

“Bruce..I want-”

“Tell me- what do you want?” Bruce replied, far too quickly. Bruce’s hands rested on his waist. If he moved them lower- his heart quickened. Bruce had not expressed any of his desires to him, but if _Joker_ were to make the first move, then- 

“I...want to go _there_." He whispered. " _ACE_ . Where _it_ happened.” 

Bruce was suddenly aware that he had held on to Joker for far too long. It was a difficult realization that he...did not want anything more, only wanted to ask Bruce to take him to _that place_. Where they had first met. “...Why?” Bruce asked, only noticing then how hoarse and parched his throat was. He needed some water. 

“ _Please_.” It was hard to think with his body pressed so close against his own. Bruce did not want to let go. “I...just want to see...if I can remember something- anything…” He was tripping over the words now. 

“So you can leave? Have somewhere else to go?” Bruce demanded. Joker did not hear him- he was already asleep. Bruce sighed, and picked him up. He carried Joker to his room, and set him down onto the bed. “Don’t go.” Bruce said, quietly. A sudden urge overcame his control. He leaned down, and pressed a light kiss against his cheek. 

Bruce should take Joker there to see if he could remember anything. His past had always been a mystery that Bruce could not unravel. Still, he had an uncomfortable feeling that nothing good would come from this.

* * *

“Ugh.” Joker crossed an arm over his eyes. “Sun. Bright. Turn it off.”

“I would turn the sun off for you,” Bruce replied, “but I can’t find the switch.” 

“...Never thought that you’d be one for humor, funny man.” He groaned loudly, and rolled over, covering his face in a pillow. “Head. Hurts. _Ow_.”

Bruce shook the bottle of pills in his hand, and set the glass down. He patted at Joker’s shoulder. “You should take some of this. It’ll help.” 

Joker pushed himself up against the headboard. The same robe slipped entirely off his back, and revealed a smooth expanse of unmarred skin. “Thanks, Bats.”

“I’ll take you there.” Joker looked up at him, green eyes like sea glass in the sun. “Where you want to go.”  
  
“To see if I can remember anything.”

“To see if you can remember anything.” Bruce affirmed. Joker took one of the pills, and swallowed. “What would you do if you did remember something?” He asked. Would Joker want to leave then? He was not as _attached_ to Bruce, or to Batman, not like he was in the past life. In the past, Bruce knew where he stood with Joker, and what he needed to do in response to his actions. Now, it was much more blurred. 

“...Don’t know. I guess I’ll have to see.” 

Evening came far too quickly for Bruce’s liking. ACE Chemicals. Where everything began in both of his lives. The point of origin that had bounded his life to Jokers’. He wondered sometimes what would have happened if Bruce had taken Joker with him in the past life. He did not have time to ponder on what ifs. Gotham at night was an entirely different beast, and Bruce needed the last of the sunlight for this outing. 

Bruce elected to not put on the cowl. It was still too early for that. “We should go.” He told Joker, who shot him a nervous look. He had always been easy to read- Joker had never chosen to hide his emotions. It was Bruce who had refused to see, then. “Before it gets dark.” 

Bruce took one of his less conspicuous cars. In the back of his mind, he realized that this was the first time- in this changed reality- that he was driving, with Joker by his side. 

The derelict buildings where ACE and the chemical pits sat was once a shining and glorious example of Gotham’s industrial might. Up close, it loomed over the skyline, a demonstration of how far Gotham had fallen since its heyday. Still, it was a behemoth. 

Bruce parked some distance away, in the shade of an empty storage facility. They looked up towards the entrance. In Bruce’s mind, the events of the night replayed. Batman, who broke through the ceiling, black cape taking up the spaces around him until he seemed like a monster, impossibly larger than those around him. Joker, who shook, and ran, and _fell_ -even as Bruce reached out to him- he was shaken out of his own memories of that night when he saw Joker, who stood beside him, start to shake.

“I can’t.” Joker whispered, eyes wide. “I _can’t_ go in there- I- _no_ -” his hands, crossed over his chest, gripped at his shoulders.

“We don’t have to-” Bruce paused, and stared at Joker. His face was streaked with tears. Bruce had _never_ seen Joker cry before- it was something that he just seemed incapable of, and yet- 

“We don’t have to go, not today.” Bruce said softly. He reached out. Joker jerked away from him, stepping back- he stumbled, and almost fell to the ground. The last golden edges of the sun disappeared behind storm clouds. 

“B-Bat- _no_ -” he was tense. He was _afraid_. 

“Joker- _please_.” Bruce could not help an edge of desperation creeping into his voice. “I’m here-”

He reached out to him, and tried to take him into his arms. That was a mistake. “ _No_.” Joker whispered. His voice was drowned out by a flash of lightning, a roar of thunder. He turned. And ran. It started to rain.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And that's another chapter, done!  
> I really enjoy planning for and writing this fic, it's been super fun so far. Thank you all so much for your kudos and comments, they are super appreciated!


	11. Lost And Found

_ Three years ago. _

It was raining. Batman leapt across the narrow edges of Gotham’s rooftops. On foot, Joker could not have gone too far. He could still be in the industrial district, where ACE Chemicals sat, or in the dilapidated narrows district near it. Still, Bruce had used up precious time to return to the cave and suit up. With each passing moment, the chances of finding him diminished. 

Lightning arched across the night, painting the Gothic spires a temporary blinding white. The rain beat relentlessly down Bruce’s back. The thunder was deafening, as was his heartbeat. Heavy boots fell on hard concrete, the Bat searched for a flash of green and white. 

“Alfred, scan the buildings beneath me for any heat signals.” It was a long shot. He could see people, and distinguish between adults and children, but that was the limit. Bruce clenched his fist in frustration.

"It's been  _ two days _ , Bruce." Alfred sounded tired. And concerned. “You haven’t stopped.”   


“I  _ can’t  _ stop.” There were no signals- most empty buildings in the narrows remained like that- empty. It housed none but the most desperate, those with nowhere else to go in the city. “Not until I find him.”

Two days. Forty eight hours. Two thousand, eight hundred and eighty minutes had passed. 

Bruce had no luck among the busier parts of the narrows. He stopped three robberies and two drug deals. In the rain, the Bat made a menacing shadow. Batman had been patrolling by ACE Chemicals, the surrounding warehouses and storage facilities and empty factories, and the larger area of the narrows around it. 

When dawn broke, Bruce remained empty handed. Batman returned to the cave. Underneath the cowl, he was disheveled. Strands of dark hair hung over bloodshot eyes. Stubble covered his chin. Bruce had trained himself to require less sleep, but that did not mean the relentless search would not affect him. 

Bruce closed his eyes. The images of Joker, shaking, turning away from him, and running- 

“It was my fault. I shouldn’t have brought him there in the first place.” He muttered, bitterly. 

“You couldn’t have known, Master Bruce.” Alfred replied. “He asked you to take him.”

“And I  _ did _ \- he- he’s confused. He doesn’t know what he wanted. I should have refused, but I didn’t.”

Alfred pressed his mouth into a thin line. 

“I have to go.” Bruce pressed on, removing pieces of his armor. Batman cannot be seen in the day, but with some disguises, he could blend in with the natives of the narrows. 

“Without sleep?”   


“If  _ anything _ happens to him, I-” Bruce breathed in. Held that breath. Breathed out. Slowly. “I don’t know what I will do.” Why had he agreed to return in the first place, and not let dreamless death take him? Bruce’s realization came too late for them to do anything about it. Even if he knew that he loved Joker, and that Joker loved him back, too much had passed between them for them to avoid their fate. He  _ won’t _ let this happen again.

“...Good luck, Bruce. I hope you do find him soon.” 

Bruce had hoped that it would be  _ Bruce _ who found Joker, and not Batman. He saw Joker’s reaction- it must have brought back some memories- and they would not have been pleasant. If he shied away from Bruce then, pulled back from him and ran- then how would he have reacted to  _ Batman _ ? 

He kicked his boots through the large windows of an abandoned apartment building. Bruce had to act as soon as he saw the pale, shadowy figure from the opposite building. It was shatteringly loud in the still night. Joker looked up at him, eyes filled with fear as bright moonlight streamed across the cut glass. He fell to his hands and knees, but still scrambled to get away from Bruce. They were crouched in the small, run down space that used to be a living room.

“Joker-” Bruce called out, softening his voice. He crouched down, so he was no longer looming over Joker. He removed the cowl, and set it aside, meeting Joker’s eyes with his own. “ _ Please _ . I’m not here to hurt you. I just want to take you  _ home _ .”

Joker’s hands were beginning to bleed. Bruce cursed at himself for not taking the time to find another entrance- but he was too afraid of losing him again to stop and think. Bruce moved closer, attempting to remove the pieces of glass between them. 

“Where is home?” Joker asked, voice hoarse. He was still shaking. He was  _ afraid _ of him. But he was not trying to run, or leave, not anymore. 

“...The manor- with me, come back, I’ll take care of you-” 

“I’ll go back with you.” Joker interrupted. “I…” Before Bruce could respond, he swayed on his knees, and Bruce had to react. He caught him before he hit the ground, and carried him in his arms. 

Looking closer, Joker seemed even more tired and run down than Bruce was- how long had he been running? How long was he holed up in this place? It did not matter, what mattered was that they were back together again, and Bruce could finally  _ breathe _ . He found the Batmobile quickly, and strapped Joker down on the passenger seat. It peeled across the streets of Gotham, and left all of it- the rain, the desperate search- behind.

Joker was hurt. His hands and knees were cut, some so deep they needed to be stitched up again. 

“You found him.” Alfred said, and placed down a tray of bandages and suture needles and threads.

Bruce nodded. “He can’t leave the manor, not like this.” He could tell that Alfred was somewhat uncomfortable with Bruce wanting to keep Joker here. Confined- no,  _ not  _ confined. _ Safe _ . “I’m only trying to keep him safe.”

“ _ With all due respect _ , Master Bruce, I don’t think you can keep  _ anyone _ here forever.” The butler replied. “I could tell, though, that you do want to do that.”

Bruce kept his mouth shut at that one. Possessiveness was an ugly beast, it lurked inside his mind and chest. But why couldn’t he be possessive? He had lost the Joker once, and almost lost hold of him this time. It was no surprise that he would want to keep him close. 

“I...I’ll check on him tomorrow, then.” 

Alfred nodded. “Go get some sleep, sir. You both need it.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter fought hard with me. I'm satisfied with what I've got, but someday I might come back and give this one another edit.  
> Still, another chapter out! Next time we return to the present!
> 
> Thank you all for your kudos and comments! I'd love to hear your thoughts on this fic and this chapter!


	12. Spirit In The Sky

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNINGS: Smut at beginning of chapter. Some description of injuries.

_ Present. _

Bruce liked to pull at Joker’s hair. He carded his fingers through green hair, tugging at it roughly as Joker licked a stripe up his cock. He was slow, agonizingly slow as he took the tip into his mouth, wrapping his lips as he sunk down slowly, and splayed his hands across Bruce’s hips. Bruce growled, and pulled harder, trying hard to _ not  _ buck up and choke him. 

“ _ Fuck _ -” Bruce bit out as Joker took him entirely in his mouth, stretching his lips wide around the base of his cock. Joker eyed him smugly as he moved away, leaving Bruce desperately wanting the warm heat back around him. He removed his hand from Joker’s hair, leaving it ruffled and messy. He wrapped an arm around Joker’s waist. 

“Come here,” he said, voice hoarse, as he pulled Joker closer towards him. Joker shook his head.

“No.” He replied.

“ _ No _ ?” Bruce was incredulous. 

“Shh.” Joker pressed a finger against his lips. He knelt over his hips and held Bruce’s cock against himself, and sunk down slowly, eyes gazing into Bruce’s own the entire time. Bruce held his gaze, one hand gripping the sheets tightly and the other on Joker’s hip, wanting him to move faster but not wanting to rush or hurt him. 

Need out-rode patience as Bruce snapped his hips up, earning a small cry from Joker as his cock was _ finally _ buried deep inside the other man, warm heat gripping them, two halves becoming one whole. 

Joker began to move. His thighs firmly on each side of Bruce’s waist, he pulled against his cock, and slammed down, each movement resulting in the sound of flesh against flesh. Bruce reached for Joker, wanting to give him the same searing pleasure that was building in him, desperate for release. 

Joker batted his hand away. He shook his head. “D-don’t touch, I want-” he leaned down against Bruce, and Bruce gripped his hips, hands digging into his side as he bit and kissed the other man. Wet, open mouthed kisses as they breathed against each other, chest to chest, rapid heartbeats beating together. 

Bruce held Joker in his arms as he moved up into him with short, rapid thrusts. They were edging towards completion. Joker came with a soft cry, cock trapped between their bodies, grinding against their skin. 

“ _ Fuck _ \- Bats- I-” 

He twisted Joker’s hair, pulling them together, and crushed their lips together. He thrusted roughly, cursing against Joker’s lips. Even as the afterglow washed over them, Bruce remained in him, shifting and moving his hips slightly, not wanting to pull out from his body. 

“I love you.” He stroked Joker’s back. 

“Mmhm…” Joker replied, smiling slightly with soft, swollen lips. “You don’t have to go just yet, Brucie,” he said, as Bruce pulled away reluctantly and began to dress. He laid himself across the bed. “I can do this  _ allll day _ , I bet you can, too.” He winked, giving himself a playful pat on his backside. 

“I would if I could,” Bruce said, pulling on a shirt. “But there’s some...business I need to attend to.”

“Business business? Or  _ bat  _ business?” Joker asked, emphasizing on the  _ bat _ .

“...Nothing to do with the company.”

“Bat business it is, then.” Bruce nodded. Joker flopped back onto the bed, staring up at Bruce. “There’s no use asking you to take me with you, is there? You always seem to know where I am.”

Bruce tensed slightly. He forced himself to relax, hoping that Joker had not picked up on that. There was no way he knew of the tracker. Bruce destroyed all traces of evidence that could point to its existence. He shook his head. 

“Well, I’m goin’ to take a shower, and go back to sleep, then.” He huffed, turning his back towards Bruce. 

Bruce headed down towards the cave. At least Joker did not seem to want to follow him, so that made things much easier. If this was a normal mission- something safe, and controllable, he would have taken him. This was no normal mission, and Bruce wanted to keep Joker  _ safe _ . He came  _ far too close _ to losing him in the past. He had lost him once, and it  _ killed him _ too. It’s not something Bruce would ever risk again. He opened a hidden chamber in the cave, one only he knew about- not even Alfred was privy to this area, despite knowing of Bruce’s true origins. 

The Mother Box sat in a reinforced glass cage, a soft glow pulsing from the centre of each side. He took it out. It was small, and it fitted into the palm of his hand. It pinged at him. He had claimed it, but he never used it. He never had a reason to. He would have a reason soon, Bruce was sure of it. 

Instead of his usual suit, Bruce powered up another one that he had been building. Reinforced armour, a full face shield, powerful blasters, heat sensors and night vision. It’s own oxygen recycling system. It was almost as durable and strong as the suit he had before he died. 

“Time to go.” He whispered to himself, and thought of Joker, who laid in their room. He hoped that he was asleep. He did not tell anyone of what would happen on this day. It needed to happen. Bruce knew by now how to separate between the inevitable threads of history and the things that he could change. This was a long time coming, and not something he could change. But he could do as much as he can to mitigate the damage to Earth. To Gotham. That would have to be enough.

* * *

Joker woke with a start. He could feel in his gut that something was wrong,  _ deeply  _ wrong. One look out the window confirmed his feelings. There was something  _ wrong  _ with Gotham. Bright lights pulsated out from the city, and even from here he could feel the ground shaking. 

“ _ Shit _ .” He cursed, pulling himself up, wincing slightly at the ache in his back and hips. 

He lept, and dressed quickly, nearly crashing into Alfred as he rushed out the corridor. The old man looked grim. “Are you going to Gotham?” He asked curtly.

Joker nodded in response. “Are you going to stop me?” He replied. Alfred shook his head. 

“You know I won’t stop you.” He said. The butler had never really agreed with Bruce on  _ that _ . 

Joker grinned. “Stay here, Jeeves. _ I’ll  _ go see what’s happening.”

“Be careful, then.”

“I will.”

He headed down towards the cave, and threw on his own regalia. Batman had his suit and cape, and Joker had his suit and coat. And knives and smoke bombs. And sharp playing cards. 

Batman had taken the Batmobile, but he did leave the Batpod. It purred under him like the great beast of a motorcycle it was. The sounds of screams and blasts were becoming louder and louder as he rode closer to the city proper. And then-

“Help, please!” A scream. Joker screeched to a halt as he leapt off the bike, sliding a blade into a gloved palm. A woman was cornered against a wall. Before her, was…a  _ monster _ . 

Great, leathery wings stretched from its hulking back. It turned, sensing his presence. Giant, glowing red eyes bore into his own, as it opened its mouth and let out a guttural groan, firing the great, strange gun it held towards him. He jumped out of its way just in time, the heat of the blast melting the tar on the ground. It hit the Batpod. Joker winced. That was his getaway gone, and now he was stuck. 

The smoke cleared. Red eyes fixed upon him. He took the chance, and threw his blade before the creature could fire upon him. The knife lodged into one of its eyes, and red blood spurted out of it. It roared in anger and frustration, and fired another blast. 

Joker dodged, another blade slipping into his palm. He had many, but they were not limitless. It growled, a low roar that sent a shiver down his spine. He clutched his knife, readying his aim-

When another set of red eyes appeared in the dark. And another. And another. He was _surrounded_. More creatures like the first monster flew down from the sky, some covered in blood, others in burns. Their growls so loud it made the very ground he stood on tremble. Each one of them held a weapon in their claws. 

“...Fuck.” Joker gritted his teeth. He could deal with one monster. Maybe even two. But this _ many _ ? 

The creatures don't seem to want to kill him. If they did, they would have done so by now. He looked up, and saw the shadows of even more winged beasts, carrying off their struggling cargo. They meant to take prisoners, then. 

Joker returned his knife, and held up both hands. They seemed to realize it as a gesture of surrender. One of them took flight, the buzz of its wings made him dizzy. He wanted to throw up. His stomach felt like a pit. Sharp claws dug into his back. He bit back any sound he would make in reaction to that pain. He knew pain well, and he  _ refused _ to scream.

And then, he was up in the air, wind in his hair and blood streaming down his back. The creature's breath stunk of fire and ash.

_ Boom _ .

He felt the sky and stars around him twist and shift. Everything went dark. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another chapter! The present plot picks up some steam, as we set off into a new arc!  
> I think the smut scene was the longest I have written so far for this fic. I do hope it was enjoyable ;-)
> 
> Thank you all so much for your kudos and comments! I would love for you to tell me what you think of this fic and this chapter!


	13. Apokolips Now

_Present._

Below him was an impossibly large planet, a _burning_ sphere. How high was he flying? He could feel each blast of heat as the huge craters on the planet spat out tall columns of flames. His throat was dry and his face felt warm. He was too high in the sky, the creatures’ claws digging into his back. He was dizzy and light-headed. He closed his eyes, forcing himself to keep calm.

“Breathe.” He said, making his body go limp. Tried to relax, as much as he could. “ _Breathe._ ” 

Joker opened his eyes to his eyes to immense, suffocating _heat_. He coughed, and choked on the smog. The air itself felt heavy, like a layer of lead covering his skin. 

“Ugh-” He attempted to pull himself up. Heavy chains dragged against his arms and legs. His back burned with pain as the movement tore closed wounds open again. Something warm and wet ran down his back. He realized it was his blood. Joker forced his eyes to open, to take in his surroundings. 

A small, bare cell, metal walls rusted and stained. He had a suspicion on what those stains were. “Keep calm,” he muttered to himself as he hauled his body up against one wall. He was not as hurt as he could have been, and for that he counted himself lucky. His wounds burned, and it was likely that they would get infected. But he had no broken bones, nor any internal damages. 

It wouldn’t last too long. He could feel the edges of the chains cut into his skin, leaving bright red lines. There were small hooks on the underside of these chains. Each time he moved, they dug deeper into his wrists and ankles, and left him bloodied and raw. Still, he managed to pull both hands together. In the dim, red-orange glow of the cell, the small scars on his hands became all the more noticeable. 

Joker closed his eyes. Even now, on this alien planet, he was still plagued by the ghost of what happened to him. He gritted his teeth, and dislocated his left thumb. He couldn’t afford to make a sound outside the clanking of the chains- there should be guards around, and he did not want to draw any attention to himself. 

Locks were simple mechanisms. And he had plenty of practical experience picking them. These were larger than the ones he was used to, but it was simple enough. Joker quickly reset his thumb. The hooks were covered in blood and tiny pieces of flesh. Joker bandaged his wounds quickly- the creatures had left him with the clothes on his back, and the things that he carried on him.

His movement was restored, but only within the cramped cell. Joker closed his eyes and breathed in deeply. The scent of rust and smog made him dizzy.

He crept up closer to the entrance. The door was locked and bolted shut, and-

The door swung open with a loud bang, hitting his shoulder. Joker fell back, and looked up at the guard. It was another one of those creatures, breathing heavily, plumes of smoke escaping its maw.

They locked eyes. He leapt towards the guard, shoving his shoulder into its stomach, and turned to run. It was a few seconds before he heard a roar from behind him, as he barely dodged a blast.

Joker turned against a sharp corner. He could hear the other prisoners banging on the door at the commotion. He forced himself to ignore the burning pain in his shoulder. He had to get away. He ran.

The prison was _enormous_. From his position, he could see creatures, like the ones that attacked Gotham, marching up and down guard rails. And a steep drop, shrouded with smoke with no end to sight. A crooked, sharp building, twisted by molten metal, heat and steam. Covered in fog. With more than enough spaces to hide himself away, give him enough time to plan. He hated planning. Footsteps. Joker grimaced as he forced himself deeper into the hiding spot, back digging into jagged metal. Batman was always better at making plans than he was. 

“...yes, and a man dressed as a bat, too,” Joker froze. They were talking about...Batman?

“Ah, yes.” Another light. The red-orange glow that permeated this place reflected the shadows of the speakers. They stopped right before him. They...looked like they were wearing armour. And capes. Whatever they were, they were humanoid in shape- not like the other creatures that made up the bulk of the forces in the prison. Joker placed a hand over his mouth. His heart pounded so hard it felt like it was going to fall out of his chest. “And the other ones as well. _I heard_ that Lord Darkseid would go and face them _himself_.”

“Truly?”

“They’ve put up _quite_ the resistance to our forces. Lord Darkseid is...interested. In seeing just what they can do to resist _him_.”

The footsteps faded. Joker closed his eyes. Gotham was still under attack. It appears that it was not the only city under attack, either. Bats...and the other people at home, they were still in danger. He had to get back to warn them. His stomach turned. He couldn’t even get out of this prison. 

* * *

Parademons. An army of them. They swarmed the skies above Gotham like locusts. There had been subsequent invasions of Earth that the tyrant of Apokolips had attempted, but this one was the first. The invasion that gave rise to the Justice League. 

“Whoa, there’s...so many of them.” Superman’s heat vision was useful in picking off the farther targets. “Where do you think they came from?”

“Hm.” Bruce shook his head. He trusted the Justice League that he knew with his life. They were not those people, not yet. 

“I’ve never seen them before,” Green Lantern settled the civilians he had saved in an area they’ve cleared. “Not as a Green Lantern, at least. You haven’t told me what’s your power yet.” 

“I don’t have any powers.” 

“You’re _kidding_.”

“I’m not.” The grapple latched on to the opposite building. “We deal with this first. Talk later.”

Batman landed in the center of a crowd of parademons. Mindless creatures who only served Darkseid. It was easy enough to fight them. Heavy boots crushed reptilian knees before they could fire. They roared furiously as he turned their own blasters against them, and-

A sound. Bruce should not have allowed himself to be distracted by it. But he was distracted. He knew what warning it heralded. _Joker_ . His signal- it was _gone_. This could only happen if he was dead, or-

The clang of a sword drawn. Cold steel sliced the parademon who had aimed at him into two. “What’s wrong? You nearly got taken down by that thing.”

“I got distracted.” Bruce replied, his fists clenched tightly as he struggled to not scream and yell. _Of course_ Joker would put himself into danger. How could he have _ever_ expected him not to?

The Amazon nodded. “Don’t get distracted.” She told him. “In battle, it’ll get you killed.”

“I won’t.” Bruce unlatched the Mother Box. He had a feeling that he would need it, but he did not expect that it would be this soon. “You should go. The others will need your help.” 

“You only have yourself and your armor, and yet you fight as well as any of us.” 

“I like to be prepared.” Bruce said. “There is something that I need to do.” 

She flew away, and joined the others in the sky. Heavy lightning cracked across clear skies. A flash of red. Unbridled power contained in his hands. The Mother Box whirred with unreleased energy.

Bruce thought of Joker, and Apokolips, and the endless wars he had fought his whole life. 

_Boom_. 

A channel to another world, born from flames, ruled with steel, opened. Bruce stepped through.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another chapter! The Justice League are partially introduced. I used the origin story from...Justice League: Origins.  
> Coming up: Bruce heads off to find Joker, and some other stuff ;)  
> Thank you all for reading!


	14. Supernova

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING: Light descriptions of violence/destruction

_ Present. _

_ Boom _ .

Seconds later, Bruce stepped out from the light, and the passage closed behind him. Red dust swirled around his boots and cape. The skies above were dark, lit only by the fiery glow of Apokolips’ flame spitting craters. He kept the Mother Box within reach. The jagged cities of Apokolips rose in the distance, the entire planet covered in a thick layer of dust and smog. 

The tracker buzzed back to life, and Bruce let out a breath he did not realize he was holding. His suspicions were correct. Joker must have left the manor and gone into the city. If he was brought to Apokolips, then- 

“Suit, activate stealth mode.” The suit shifted and Bruce blended into the background. He could not be seen- but he still needed to remain quiet, and alert.

He glanced towards the prison. There was only one prison on Apokolips. It dominated the skyline, stretching endlessly into black skies. It dug deep below the planet, into its very core. Batman had been here before. He knew that it would be a relentless search, even with the tracker. But at least he had a location, a direction to head towards. He could not afford to let emotions cloud his judgement. Internally, Bruce held back a mass of roiling, indescribable feelings. Of course Joker would have left the manor, and he would have headed towards the city, and ended up taken by the parademons that had attacked Gotham. 

It was a long walk to the prison, and Bruce had plenty of time to mull over what he would say to Joker when he found him- and he  _ would  _ find him, there was no questioning that. 

It was simple enough to get in. Bruce had fought Darkseid and the armies of Apokolips alongside the League enough times in his past life to know how to get in and out of the maze like structure. The screen that tracked the tracker he placed in Joker alerted him of the general direction he should head towards. Bruce had hesitated before doing so, but this had cemented his thought that he had done the right thing. If he had not done so, then- no. Bruce needed to _focus_.

He could see Granny Goodness and another one of her underlings heading towards his direction. Bruce held his breath, as Darkseid’s dog approached. They walked past him without so much a glance. Using Apokoliptian tech in crafting this suit had been the right choice, then. It shielded their eyes from him as well. 

After several more hours of searching through the maze that was the prison, the tracker led him to where Joker was. His coat was slightly singed, and he had bandages around his hand and wrists. But he was  _ there _ . 

"Joker." Bruce kept his voice low as he placed a hand over the other man’s mouth. The relief he felt after he finally found Joker was immense. He did not seem too hurt, only some cuts and bruises. He stopped struggling as soon as he heard Bruce’s voice. “It’s me. Keep your voice down.” Joker nodded, and Bruce removed his hand, and deactivated stealth mode. 

“Bats? Wha-  _ how _ ?” He asked. Bruce pulled him away from the view of marching parademons. He shook his head.

“I’ll explain later. We need to get out of here first.” 

“What  _ even _ is _ this place _ ?” He glanced at Bruce. “How did you find me? And how’d you turn invisible like that?” 

“This place is called Apokolips. My suit has a stealth mode. I’ll explain more when I get back.  _ Later _ .”

“Wait, when  _ you _ get back? What about-”

Bruce placed his Mother Box into Joker’s pocket. “You know where to take him.” He ordered.

“Bats, what do you m-” The light from the Mother Box enveloped him.

_ Boom. _

He would have to explain later. For now...Bruce would need to find another way to return to Earth, and help the League. He knew just where to go. 

“Suit, get back into stealth mode.” He ordered. “We’ve got work to do.” 

Apokolips had many armories. The warlike planet was always at war with multiple peoples, in multiple dimensions. Bruce glanced at one of the medium sized vessels that sat waiting in the hangar. Each of these would be equipped with its own Mother Box. Not as powerful as the one he had, but it would do the job. Parademon guards milled about. That would not do. 

He headed towards the opposite side of the armory. A stack of the blast-guns carried by parademon foot soldiers were being loaded by grunts. Bruce had a plan. It was rough, and simple. It would work. 

The explosion ripped through the armory, as the air heated to searing levels. The screeches of parademons echoed through the walls as Bruce unlocked the ship, and flew away before it would be noticed. Bruce pressed the second button, and the armory collapsed in on itself, and became a flaming inferno.

He was going home.

Gotham harbor and the surrounding bay was on fire. From his position in the sky, half the city was on fire. Most of the world had been hit by parademon attacks. But Gotham must have been one of the hardest hit areas. 

Bruce clenched his jaw. His home was burning. The man he loves was hurt. Darkseid would  _ pay _ for this.

A flash of red. Flash was hitting out at Darkseid as the behemoth swayed and roared in the water. Creatures of the ocean leapt out and bit at him. Each movement of his caused tall waves to lash out at Gotham’s shores. The red glow of the omega beans cut through the night sky.

Bruce remembered how it had cut through him. The pain that struck him. It had almost killed him. It did not matter. What mattered now was helping the League defeat Darkseid. Bruce positioned the ship behind Darkseid, and fixed its cannons to the back of the Apokoliptian's neck. A great green fist burst through the sky and struck Darkseid in the chest. He roared and fell back, sending another huge wave to batter against Gotham’s shores. Bruce cursed as he lost focus, and repositioned the ship. He considered removing the shield around it and letting it be seen by the League, but the risk of being sensed by Darkseid was too great.

Finally, he had pinned Darkseid down once more. Wonder Woman had sunk her sword into the tyrant’s eye, as he roared in pain and batted away at Superman who had focused his head vision against his remaining eye. Bruce fired at the base of Darkseid’s neck. 

The cannons were even more powerful than he thought they would be. The ship shook with the strength of the impact. It had damaged the shields, though, and Bruce and the ship were visible to both the League and Darkseid. He was surrounded by them, and Bruce was once again struck by the camaraderie he felt as he fought together with the Justice League. 

They knew that they had repelled the invasion. Darkseid glared at them, one eye still bleeding heavily. Without a word, he summoned his Mother Box, and returned to Apokolips, no doubt to lick his wounds. He would be back. Bruce knew it, and, judging from the looks on their faces, the rest of the League knew it as well. Still, the retreat of Darkseid and his legions gave the city and the world some much needed respite. 

They remained silent as dawn broke against the wreck of Gotham harbour. Aside from the sounds of sirens, the city was as eerily silent as they were, unwilling or unable to speak. Shellshocked people roamed around the rubble. It reminded Bruce of the reels of footage of civilians during the second world war, unable to comprehend what had happened to them. 

“If, uh, you need any help, just say the word.” Superman said, and the rest of the League nodded. Even though they had not formally founded the group yet, Bruce could see a team starting to form. Superman and Wonder Woman. Green Lantern and the Flash. Cyborg, who had fused with a Mother Box and survived. Even Shazam, the child, looked solemn and determined to help.

“Thank you.” Bruce said, voice low. They cleaned up as much of the city as they could, directing civilians to various services. Pulling people out of piles of rubble. He made contact with Alfred once more, and Joker was there as well, silently pulling away the piles of rubble that littered Gotham’s streets.

“Joker.” Bruce approached him. It was strange for them to be out like this in daylight, and Bruce could tell that it was making him uncomfortable.

“Hey, Bats.” Joker turned, and tossed the Mother Box towards him. Bruce caught it. “Thanks for saving me back there.”

“You don’t have to thank me.” Bruce replied, voice thick as he was hit with the realization that he could have almost lost him. He wanted to reach out, to shake him and ask him whether he realized that he could have died. He wanted to hold on to him and never let go. Still, Joker didn't seem too bothered by Bruce sending him back that way. His reactions were difficult to predict, but Bruce did feel quite relieved.

“Your new friends,” Joker glanced at them, “I watched them fight the big guy on the news- what’s his name again?”

“Darkseid.” Bruce replied. “They were-”

“Pretty _cool_.” Joker grinned at him. “Do I get to meet them?” 

“Soon.” Bruce mentally prepared himself to introduce Joker to the League, not as an enemy but as an ally. As his  _ partner _ . A strange thought, but it made his chest feel warm. “Lets clean up, first.”

“Yeah.” Joker looked around at the mess that surrounded them. “We got a lot of _that_ to do.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another chapter! Finally, we're at 20,000 words! And that's a storyline wrapped up for now. In the next few chapters, we return to the past and watch Bruce and Joker's relationship as it develops. 
> 
> I'm pretty pleased with this chapter over all, and I hope that you lovely readers enjoy it as well!


	15. Resolutions

_ Three years ago. _

Alfred had insisted on a party. “Bruce Wayne throws a New Years bash every year.” He said. “It would be out of character, sir, for you to not have a party.”

“Maybe Bruce Wayne wants a break.” Bruce retorted. “Maybe Bruce Wayne doesn’t want to have a party this year.” As he got older in the past life, Bruce slowly faded from public view, and retired his playboy persona. He thought of all those hours wasted as he wined and dined Gotham’s richest. He had forgotten how tiresome it could be. “He deserves to take a break.”

“Tongues would waggle, master Wayne.” Alfred replied, in his typical dry British fashion. “You wouldn’t like it much when they do.” 

Bruce considered that. He considered it some more. He...had wanted to spend New Years with Joker. He remembered that time when they had watched fireworks break over Gotham’s skyline in silence, a rare moment of almost peace between them. “I don’t have to care about what they say about me.” Still, Bruce knew that he would need to maintain his ‘character.’ And that meant doing what Bruce Wayne does best. “I’ll host the party.” 

Joker didn’t look too surprised when Bruce told him he would not be able to go to the party. 

“I don’t mind,” he said. “It’ll be weird if I showed up. All your friends will ask  _ questions _ .” He quirked an eyebrow.

“They’re not my friends.” Bruce replied quickly. “Bruce Wayne does this from time to time. Keeps up with appearances.” 

“It’s weird how you talk about yourself in the third person. Why’s that?” Joker asked, and crossed his arms. Bruce tried to not notice his hair, still slightly damp, plastered across his forehead. How his cheeks blushed a light pink from the steam of the showers. 

“I’m Bruce. Bruce Wayne is my  _ persona _ . The face I show Gotham.”

“So they won’t think that you’re Batman?” 

Bruce nodded. 

“Well,” Joker leaned forward. He was up in Bruce’s space, so close that he could feel the heat that radiated from his body. And then he leaned even closer, and Bruce could feel his heart beating against his ribs.  _ Control yourself _ , he thought. He’s a grown man who has lived two lives. It should not be this  _ easy _ to rile him up. Joker stood on the tip of his toes, and rested his chin on Bruce’s shoulder. “ _ Enjoy _ your party.” He whispered against Bruce’s ear, lips grazing his earlobe. 

Bruce closed his eyes. And willed his body to not react. His mind raced. What was Joker doing?  _ Why _ was he acting like this? His lips were soft, like velvet. “I won’t leave you to spend New Years alone.” Bruce whispered, voice hoarse. 

“I really don’t mind.” Joker pulled away, and left Bruce alone in the hallway. Bruce stared at his retreating back, and the sway of his hips. He thought of all the times he tried to not look at him in those fitted purple pants he liked to wear. Bruce was tempted to slap himself.

The party went off without a hitch. Glasses clinked and champagne was poured. Silver platters of finger foods that Bruce could barely pronounce were passed around. His guests laughed and gossiped as they danced across the hallway. He glanced at the grand entrance to the ballroom that was only used for such occasions. Something about this party felt wrong.

It struck him suddenly. No one had crashed in through the entrance, thrown open the doors, and fired gunshots into the air. No sounds of screaming guests, of Joker’s echoing laughter and threats of dismemberment, or of Riddler’s smug taunts, or Black Mask’s threats. It was rare for Bruce Wayne’s parties to  _ not  _ be hijacked by Gotham’s colorful criminal personalities. Bruce had gotten used to them, and Gotham’s upper classes and socialites must have too. After a few years, Bruce had started to wonder about the people who continued to attend these. 

Bruce felt a presence coming up to him from behind. He turned, and feigned surprise at Vicki Vale. “Vicki!” He put on a false voice. “You scared me there, I almost had a heart attack!”

“Now that would have made one hell of a story.” She grinned, and brought up the crystal glass to her lips. “You seem distracted. Is everything all right?”

Bruce could tell when a reporter was chasing a story. Before he could speak, the crisp sound of a slap echoed through the high ceilings of the ballroom. Voices hushed. Footsteps fell silent. Even the hired waiters were staring across the room. Bruce noticed the three people at the center of the attention. The man who had placed an arm around the woman next to him. And another woman, who stood opposite them. Bruce took the opportunity to slip away from the crowd, who had started to whisper to each other and point at the trio, and left Ms Vale to follow the scent of a juicy story that had nothing to do with  _ him _ , for once.

He found Joker standing at the balcony in Bruce’s room. It was snowing once more, a fresh layer of snow that covered the thick layer already coating the ground. Flakes of snow fell onto Joker’s hair. Bruce reached out and brushed them away. 

“Are you going out tonight?” He asked.

Bruce shook his head. He had been paying attention to the police scanners in the moments he could spare that night, and it had been surprisingly quiet for a New Years night. There were no big, flashy take-overs of the city like there were almost every holiday since Batman first started fighting his more colorful enemies. He did not doubt that they would show up once more. “I’ve been listening to the scanners. The police can handle things tonight.” 

Joker whistled. “Always working, huh? Would all work and no play make Brucie a dull boy?” 

So he had been going through the movie collection in the library, Bruce thought. “You think I’m dull?” He retorted. 

“You have a giant party going on down there,” Joker pointed downwards. Even from across the manor, and two stories removed from the ballroom, the music was loud enough to be heard. “But you’re up here with me instead.”

“I think,” Bruce replied, “that I’d rather spend this time with you.” He was treading dangerous waters. He held out his hand. “Would you like a dance?” He asked.

Joker was silent for a moment. He nodded, and let Bruce lead him as they swayed together on the balcony, a cold breeze filling the air with more snow. It would be so easy for Bruce to just lean down, and press his lips against the other man’s. To hold him closer, and shield him against the cold.

They let go of each other without a word.

“You should go back. They’ll be missing you.” 

Bruce nodded, gazing back into Joker’s eyes. Something had changed between them. It seemed that neither of them wanted to put a name to it. When Bruce left, he found it difficult to contain the smile on his face.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another chapter done! The past chapters from 'three years ago' will now be the past chapters from 'two years ago.' The next few chapters will focus more on the plotline in the past, and we finally get to see how Bruce and Joker got together ;)
> 
> On a non fic-related note, I've been playing tons of Among Us lately. It's been super fun and really, really addictive.


	16. A Helping Hand

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning - light description of injuries, needles

_ Two years ago. _

Bruce could notice Joker’s hands shaking a little as he held the needle against Bruce’s arm. In the video playing on the computer screen, the surgeon expertly threaded the patients’ skin close as the narrator explained how each stitch should be placed. 

“Don’t worry about it,” Bruce said. If the wound was not inconveniently on his back, he would be able to take care of it himself. The explosion had ripped a piece of the metal crates apart, and one of the pieces had sliced through his armor from the force of the blast.

“Why is it always the docks?” Joker asked, as he struggled with the suture thread. “Every time something goes wrong.” 

“It’s where most of the gangs trade in and out of. Drugs, weapons. People. The Russians, Falcone, they all get their use out of the docks. And the city officials-” Bruce gritted his teeth as Joker started to sew close the wound, “-enough of them are corrupt that the docks can be used that way.” 

Cool fingertips brushed across his bare skin. Joker was getting better at this, especially since Alfred had started to show him how to treat wounds, before Bruce forced the butler to take some time off and return home to visit in England. He had always felt guilty that he had kept Alfred working for so long into his old age, even though Alfred  _ had _ agreed to it.

“..Thank you.” Bruce breathed out as Joker tied the thread that held the wound together, and wrapped bandages across his back and chest. 

“You’ve got a lot of scars.” He pointed out. “Can I…”

Bruce nodded. He thought of all the scars that he had by the end of his life. Many of them from the hands of the man that was now sewing him up. This body, in comparison, was almost completely unmarred. Bruce closed his eyes as Joker traced his scars softly. "How'd you get them?" He asked.

Bruce shook his head. "I...don't really remember how I got most of them." 

“Oh. Uh, I’m all done, so…” Joker helped him into his shirt. Bruce stood, pulling the shirt down. The pain in his back barely registered. It was nothing compared to what he knew. “I was thinking.”

“Yes?” Bruce turned to face Joker. He looked uncertain, but with a spark of determination in his eyes. 

“I was thinking that there are other ways I can help. Not just,” he placed the suture kit away, “with this but with, you know, the _ other stuff _ .”

“What other stuff?” Bruce acted like he didn’t know what Joker was thinking about. What he wanted to say. The rustle of wings and chitters echoed in the cave. He would have to disappoint him, Bruce thought. After what happened last time when they went to ACE Chemicals, neither of them had brought it up. But Joker hasn’t left the manor since then. They did not speak of it much, but they both knew that even if he asked, Bruce would refuse to let him go anywhere without him.

“The Batman stuff. Going on patrol. Learning some of your fancy kung fu moves, you know? Stuff like that.” He wrapped his arms around Bruce’s arm and swung lightly, careful of his wound. “I’m  _ bored _ .”

“That’s really  _ not _ a good reason.” Bruce sighed. 

“I’ve read  _ every  _ book in your library!”

“I don’t think that you  _ have _ ,” Bruce replied, stepping away towards the entrance of the elevator. 

“Well, I-” Joker followed him up, and pressed the button that took them towards the reading room. “I’ve watched _ all _ the movies you’ve got.” There were hundreds, if not thousands of discs stored in the Manors’ library.

“I can get you more.”

“I won’t run off again, I promise. We can stay away from ACE. Just let me do  _ something _ to help-  _ please _ .” 

Bruce could have chosen to ignore him then. He did not. Instead, he sighed, and turned, and looked at Joker. “I’ll think about it,” he said. Joker’s eyes lit up, and his mouth widened into a grin.

“Don’t-” Joker had already wrapped his arms around him, and squeezed Bruce tightly, though still careful to avoid his wounds, before he could finish his sentence. “-take it as a promise-” Bruce finished.

“I won’t, I won’t.” He was still smiling as he let Bruce go. The warmth of the touch lingered against his chest. He wished that Joker would have held on longer. 

It started with letting him being the guiding voice. It allowed Alfred more time to rest, which Bruce was grateful for. And he had to admit that Joker did do well. None of his misgivings came to fruition. He was eager to learn, and more so to help. Even when Bruce had warned him that it would take a long time before he would allow Joker to even do some reconnaissance with him, Joker would smile and nod, and say “I’ll wait.”

Still, when Bruce thought of letting him go on patrol with him, something dark and possessive took hold in his chest. He looked to Joker, who had fallen asleep against his arm after a long night, and thought about the hundreds- thousands of different ways he could  _ lose _ him.

A stray bullet. A sliver of a blade. Explosions. Any of the weapons and traps Gotham’s rogues could come up with. Joker may have been one of them in the past, but he was not and would never be a part of that world in this life. Which meant that it would be dangerous for him to face them, just as it had been for all his partners in battle. Even more, if anyone found out about how Bruce felt about him. 

The first time they were in the Batmobile, Bruce gripped the steering wheel so hard he almost cracked it. Joker only laughed, and asked him to drive faster. 

Each time, Joker pushed a little more. Stayed out a little longer, so Bruce had to stay with him. He never pushed too far, and mostly listened. Bit by bit, Bruce found himself treating him more like a partner, and less like someone who he needed to keep safe- to protect. 

Gotham got to know them as partners as well. Bruce sighed as Joker waved the newspaper in front of him.

“First time I got onto the front page,” he crowed. He had collected all of his appearances in the papers. From the small back columns to the front page of the Gazette. 

“You need to be more careful,” Bruce warned. He pointed to the paper. “This means that there are more eyes on you. Gordon is on our side for now, but you still need to be careful with the police. Criminals will be watching you, too. You’re a threat to them, now.”

Joker sighed. “I know, I know,” he bumped against Bruce’s shoulder. “Don’t worry about it, I’ll be  _ fine _ .”

“Just…” Bruce paused. “Promise me. To be careful.”

“I  _ promise _ .” He held out his pinky. “I  _ pinky promise _ , yeah? You can’t back out of one of these.”

Bruce linked their fingers together, and smiled slightly. “Remember,” he said. “You can’t back out of this one.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Woohoo! Another chapter down! And many more to go! A bit of a time jump in this one, it covers a few months- starting with Joker helping with Batman stuff from behind the scenes and finally getting to him as Bruce's partner-in-fighting-crime :-D  
> I'll be a bit busy over the next few weeks but I promise that this fic lives rent-free in my mind so I will definitely keep on writing and updating it.


	17. Double Act

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: light descriptions of violence, firearms

_ Two years ago. _

“You’re hurt.” Bruce growled through clenched teeth. “You put yourself in danger, and you got _hurt_.”

“It’s not-  _ ow _ ! That much! Just a graze.” Joker winced as Bruce dabbed a disinfectant soaked cotton ball against his wound. 

“You got  _ shot _ .” Bruce emphasized on the word  _ shot _ . Red blood stood a shocking contrast against white skin. Joker bit his lip. Bruce could tell that he was trying to not seem too shaken. He was lucky that the bullet only grazed past his skin. He was lucky that it was only a flesh wound.

Bruce held his hand against Joker’s shoulder to steady him, as Alfred wrapped the gauze around the wound. The butler glanced at Bruce, and back at Joker.

“He seems fine to me.” He said. 

“See?” Joker turned to face Bruce. “I’m  _ fine _ , Bats. Don’t worry about it.”

Bruce tightened his grip. He gritted his teeth. His jaw ached slightly and Bruce could feel the tight pressure of the beginnings of a headache in his temples. The moment Joker was shot was as clear as day in his mind. The sharp, loud crack of the gunshot. He remembered calling Joker’s name, and Joker turning towards him, enough to stop the bullet from burying itself in his chest, but not enough to stop it cutting a wound across his side. 

“I wasn’t shot in my leg.” Joker pushed him away, and buttoned up his shirt. “I can walk. By  _ myself _ .” He stalked away back up into the manor.

“You cannot expect him to  _ not _ get hurt, master Bruce.” Alfred stocked away the medical supplies, and walked up to Bruce. “Not in this line of  _ work _ .”

Bruce closed his eyes. The headache felt like a tight band was wrapped around his skull. “The weapons these people are using are getting...stronger.” He said, trying to change his focus. “They were professionals.”

“Professionals trying to break into Wayne Enterprises.” Alfred replied.

“Not just any part of Wayne Enterprises.” Bruce shook his head. “Weapons development. R&D. They were after something  _ specific _ .”

“I suggest you get some sleep. Bruce Wayne will need to make some apparences about this.” 

Bruce sighed. “Thank you, Alfred. You get some rest, too.” 

“Of course.”

Bruce stayed behind in the cave. The darkness helped him focus, and think. He thought of the people who could be behind this attack. There was a similar string of attacks at smaller labs, companies and developers around Gotham in the last few months. He still could not figure out who was behind them, and it frustrated him greatly. Batman and Joker managed to stop them, but the gunmen would slip away into the night before they could be captured. 

He had been keeping an eye out on Penguin, who had not yet taken up the moniker, but it did not fit his M.O. It was almost as if these robberies were not designed to succeed. They would attack one place, draw Batman and Joker to these locations, then begin to leave as they arrived. They only stayed and fought when one of them triggered the locks and locked them all in. Try as he might, Bruce could not recall anything like this in his past life. It seemed as if the butterfly of change had taken flight. Could he still rely on his memories? 

Frustrated at the amount of dead ends he was facing, Bruce stalked up into the manor. 

“Bats?” Joker walked up towards him. 

“You should be resting.”

“I...know. I just wanted to…” Joker trailed off, head bowed slightly. “I wanted to, uh, say sorry. You know. You were trying to help me.”

“It’s fine.” Bruce said quickly. 

“...Why are you always like this?” Joker asked suddenly, and looked up, gazing into Bruce’s eyes. 

“Like what?” Bruce felt something sink below his chest, and into his stomach. 

“What do you feel? About  _ me _ ?” Joker blurted out, and his eyes widened, as if he did not expect for himself to say that. 

“I-” 

“Nevermind!” Joker shouted, before Bruce could reply at all. “I, uh, _forgetaboutit_!” He said, quickly, and sped off before Bruce reacted, and left him alone with his thoughts in the hallway. 

* * *

“Boss?” The man who stood before him piped up. There was a slight shake in his voice.  _ Good _ . They should be afraid of him. A gloved finger stroked across the silver scar on his palm. 

“You  _ hurt _ him.” He said darkly. “I _ told you  _ he was new at this. I told you to be careful with those guns.” He gestured to the weapon strapped into his holster. 

“You were  _ one of us _ , once. What made you think you could just- walk in and take over?” Another one of his former compatriots stood up. The other men around him took a step back.  _ Smart _ . 

“Yeah!” The first man, who saw that someone else had put himself in the line of fire, must have felt a little braver now that there are two in his corner. “I mean, first you nearly get caught by that  _ clown _ , and then you kill our client, and now you go around the city trying to bait them with fake attacks. What’s up with  _ that _ ?!”

The room went silent. The other men melded themselves into the shadows. 

“Is this.” He smiled then, and pulled the thin metal playing card from out of his pocket. “What you were thinking about?  _ All this time _ ?” 

The clinical, white fluorescent light reflected off the card. Blood sprayed across white tiles and walls. It splattered onto those who stood too close to the loud mouth. The second man gulped, and fell to his knees. Blood pooled beneath his boots.

“We...we were-” he said, with a shaking voice. “We were professionals! We were good at what we did! We got away with it in Paris, in London, in Metropolis!” His hand clenched into a fist as he gazed towards his dead compatriot, the metal playing card embedded into his neck. “Then you got  _ obsessed  _ with chasing after that guy-” he pointed to the card “-Joker, and now we are stuck in Gotham! I say-” He pushed himself back up, and turned his back towards the man. He gestured towards all the silent, black clad figures that stood around the room. “-That we get rid of  _ this guy _ ,” he pointed behind him with his thumb, “and-”

His blood joined with the darker, sticky blood of the first man. “That is quite enough, I think.” He said, softly, as he picked up and cleaned off the card, before holstering his gun once more. “Get this cleaned up.” 

“Yes, Sir!” They got to work.

He turned, and stalked out of the room. How many of them were harboring such feelings of  _ rebellion _ ? It did not matter. He could do this alone. He was better than all of them put together, and they knew it too. Those two were  _ fools _ .

He thought of green hair, and a red grin. The pain as sharp metal sliced through his hand. “ _ Gotcha _ ,” the Joker had laughed, and moved against him as the Bat lurked in the shadows, holding off his men. He had never felt like that before. 

“Who got who?” He whispered to himself, as he cleaned the card until it was spotless. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another chapter down! An original villain appears! In this fics' timeline most of Gotham's villains haven't gotten a start yet(except for mobsters like Falcone and Penguin), so I decided to create another villain(and his posse) to fill the gap a bit. 
> 
> Rest assured, Bats and Joker will get there with their relationship....eventually ;-) For now, we should just enjoy the ride


	18. Nothing to Fear

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNINGS: Weapons/guns, mild descriptions of violence

_ Two years ago. _

Cold steel pressed up against his chin. A hand reached behind his head, and pulled at his hair. His skull erupted into tiny pinpricks of pain. Steel-grey eyes peered into his own. Joker’s hand shook and his heart pounded. He could hear the static hum of the lights. The pain in his leg was almost _unbearable_.

“ _ Gotcha _ .” The man smirked, slicked back hair almost white under the harsh light. 

The gun slammed against his temple. 

_ Bats is going to kill me _ , Joker thought, before he slipped into the inviting darkness. 

* * *

“Don’t do anything.”

“Uh-huh. Do you need me to help you pack?” Joker mumbled, and scrolled down his phone. He poked the screen, and scowled. “It froze.  _ Again _ .”

“I’ll get you a new phone.” 

“Sure, sure,” Joker frowned, as he finally got the screen to work. “I thought Wayne Tech made good phones.”

“We do.” Bruce ignored Joker’s noise of protest, and reached down to pluck the phone away. “This one is faulty. I’ll get you a replacement.” 

“Why’d you have to go?”

“I don’t usually go on business trips.” Bruce sighed, and Joker felt his heart jump a little bit. He bit his lip. Stupid  _ feelings _ . They always snuck up on him when he least expected them, like a giant hand  _ squeezing _ his heart. It was getting harder to hide, especially when that treacherous voice in his mind kept whispering to him that  _ Bruce felt the same way _ . He stuffed that all the way in the back of his heart and tried to focus.

“Why’d you have to go this time, then?”

Bruce sighed again. “There are some things I can’t avoid as the head of the Company.” He said. Explained. It was an explanation. Joker didn’t like it when Bruce tried to explain stuff to him. He either hides things from him, or over explained. 

“-It’s fine. I was just asking.”

“Yeah.” Bruce nodded. “You’ll be fine, then? Stay away, don’t go anywhere-” 

“-yadayadayada, stay away from the _ action _ , and don’t get myself killed or maimed, yeah, I know.” Joker rolled his eyes, and fished out his backup phone. He felt a little bold, and tapped his fingers to his lips, and blew Bruce a little kiss before he went. It was probably just his imagination, but he thought he saw the other man’s ears go red as he left.

That put a slight smile on his face, until the bleep of the news notification drew his attention once more to the spate of attempted robberies at the various labs and tech development facilities in Gotham. Gotham had always been an industrial city, Bruce told him as much. When industry died out Gotham did not go the way of other cities that relied on steel and steam. The ‘Silicon Valley’ of the East Coast- Gotham had a reputation of being on the cutting edge of technology and development. 

He narrowed his eyes as he focused on the story. They left blatant signs of picked locks and even a slightly cracked window. It was a sloppy job- but  _ deliberately _ so. Not to mention the fact that nothing was taken from the lab. Joker had a feeling that they would hit this place again. Call it intuition, or a hunch. He couldn’t explain it, but a slight twist in his gut told him that this would happen soon. If not tonight, then the next night, but no later than that. A brand new research facility. A subsidiary of a subsidiary. Under the layers of bureaucracy and paperwork, it was linked to several overseas companies. Joker has been doing research on all the places they hit in the past weeks even before the news got wind of it. 

There was a chance for him here. Sure, he could wait until Bats gets back, but by now these people would have stolen enough bits and pieces from all these places to do something truly nasty and damaging, and Joker thinks he should stop that from happening, more than he should follow Bruce’s rules. 

And, if he was honest with himself, he never  _ wanted _ to follow those rules anyways. They rubbed him the wrong way. Irritated him. He rubbed at the back of his neck, and closed the Gazette app. Shrugging on his coat as he left, Joker placed his phone onto a counter top. Anyone with  _ half _ a brain cell would have guessed that Bruce would track his phone. And he’s no idiot. 

“Wait a minute,” Joker paused, whispered to himself, and turned back to grab the phone. “I have an idea.” 

The old man was reluctant, of course he was. He frowned, and harrumphed, and pursed his lips into a thin line. “I’m afraid not,  _ sir _ .” He said, in that proper manner that was always endearing, but now almost annoying. “This is dangerous.” 

“How would I learn to do anything if I don’t get the chance to try?” Joker retorted. His blood sang and his body tingled. He wanted to do this. Suddenly, he was struck with the conviction that he  _ had _ to do this. He thought of the man whose hand his card had slashed across. Joker barely saw his face, but he remembered the look in his eyes. His skin burned and tingled with the dull chemical burn that never quite went away. The tall ceiling and huge space of the manor echoed with his shout. 

“You resent the way he treats you.”

That caught him off guard. Joker blinked in surprise. But it was true, he did feel resentful, and that complicated the other already complicated  _ feelings _ he held towards Bruce. 

“...So what if I do.” 

“I am simply pointing out what I have observed.” The butler was as unaffected as ever. Even now Joker found it hard to read him. He didn’t know him like Bruce did. He wasn’t sure which  _ side _ he would take.

He did not stop him. Joker left the manor in the cover of dusk, and realized with sudden embarrassment that without Bruce telling him what to do, he didn't quite know where or how to start. But he couldn’t give up  _ now _ . Just thinking about slinking back to the manor with his metaphorical tail between his legs was enough to make him cringe and his entire body shudder. 

“Come on. You can do this.” He whispered to himself as the car purred underneath him. Joker had always wanted to take the batmobile for a ride. Sleek and deadly, it reminded him of a certain  _ someone _ . “Don’t think of him now,” he says again, slightly louder. “You need to focus.” Talking to himself. He must be insane. 

He was further away from the city proper, and into the industrial district. The batmobile peeled down the empty roads as the sky opened up and dumped rain all over the city. The building of the research lab stood in darkness, all brutalist steel and concrete. 

Joker walked into the building. It was unlocked. He decided against taking the elevator, and headed towards the stairwell. He could feel his own heartbeat as he made his way up in darkness. Bruce’s computer got the layout of the place, but memorizing a layout was vastly different to actually exploring the place. He was never all that good at maps and directions. And then- his thoughts stopped. So did his heart, if only for a moment.

A click. A snap. Blinding light flooded the room he had just stepped into. Joker squeezed his eyes shut out of instinct. First mistake. Something embedded itself into his thigh. He took a step back. Warm blood trickled down his leg. It was sharp and metal and left the scent of rust in the air. Joker stumbled, and forced his eyes open to meet grey eyes shining with a cold maliciousness- 

He grabbed onto the edge of the doorway. Behind him, a fall down the stairway. In front of him- “I know you.” He said.

“We’ve met.” The other man replied. Joker’s grip tightened. His body thrummed as adrenaline pumped through his blood. He pushed himself against the doorframe and used the momentum to crash against his opponent, leading both men to stumble into the windows. Reinforced glass, Joker realized, as a sudden, surging pain had him falling to the ground. His leg was broken and a gun was pressed on his throat, against his chin.

“You never stood a chance, and I think you knew that,  _ didn’t you _ ?” He pushed the weapon hard against Joker’s throat, and it made him choke and sputter as he struggled to breathe. He tutted, and shook his head. “It’s  _ disappointing _ , really.” Joker glared. His heart beat hard against his ribs. This was the closest he had been to death- apart from the time he fell into the acid, and he could barely remember that- “I thought that someone who could scar me would be a little _ stronger, _ but perhaps you were just  _ lucky _ .”

“Would you just  _ shut up _ already?” Joker retorted, feeling a little stung at such a remark, even if it came from a foe. He could have taken him, he knew he could have, if Bats hadn’t kept him in, held him back- where did these thoughts come from? He did not care, the pain in his leg was excruciating- if he tried to turn his head, he could almost see white bone sticking out at an odd angle against the shiny metallic flooring. 

"No Batman to help you this time." His opponent grinned.

Sneering grey eyes bore into his own, the whistling sound of the pistol impossibly loud as it crashed into his temple. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy 2021! Sorry for not updating for so long, the last month and a bit of 2020 was pretty rough for me and family and work stuff kept me super busy. I'll still be pretty busy but hopefully when things settle down I'll go back to a more regular update schedule. Thank you all so much for reading!
> 
> Yeah...so that happened, we'll get to what happened with Joker soon...he isn't that good of a fighter in this verse, since he doesn't have Batman to practice against as an enemy, and this Bruce prefers to keep him in the back seat, and now we're seeing where that would lead... ;-)


End file.
